Flash Point
by NElaineR
Summary: Someone needs Cal out of the way...and of course Gillian gets caught in the cross hairs. Don't own Lie to Me and all that jazz. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

He crossed over the threshold into the stairwell when he felt a powerful arm catch him around the throat. Throwing his head back, he missed his assailant's nose. Apparently the man had expected such a move. Leaning forward, Cal attempted to push him off balance but he was too large, too heavy. He couldn't catch his breath now as the muscular arm tightened its hold on his throat.

He moved his hands around in blind panic, looking for one of the man's vulnerable fingers but they were fisted tightly so he was left scratching at the heavy forearm, progressively growing weaker.

The sound of a sudden intake of breath had his graying vision shift slightly to the left.

_Gillian_. She'd come looking for him. _No, no, no…_

With renewed vigor, he stepped back, smartly catching the man's instep with his boot. A low grunt coincided with the arm loosening ever so slightly. But it was short lived. Cal pulled in one ragged breath before the arm pulled against his throat even harder. The guy was trying to choke him out.

"Get her!" The order was barked in a smooth baritone as another man darted toward Gillian's retreating figure.

Cal thrashed as he watched the masked figure catch her by the hair, pulling back abruptly, almost setting her off her feet. She whirled and punched the man straight in the mouth. Cal would have smiled if he were capable but the gray was turning to charcoal and he knew he would be out in seconds.

Just before he lost consciousness he helplessly watched the vicious backhand that the man gave Gill. She fell abruptly as Cal lost his own battle.

_**(BREAK)**_

"She wasn't supposed to be here!" The smaller man looked down at the woman at his feet. "Her car wasn't down there."

"Obviously she took the train or got a lift."

"No shit. What do we do with her though?"

"Guess she comes along."

"That wasn't the plan."

"Plans change. She wakes up, sounds the alarm and all of the sudden Lightman's disappearance becomes less of a mystery. Wouldn't take rocket science for the cops to figure out the connection. If they both disappear for a while…well, for all anyone will know, they took off together. 72 hours is more than enough time.

The larger man removed his gloves and pulled several items from deep pockets. He tossed a couple of zip ties toward his partner. "Blindfold and gag her too. Can't take any risks."

Crouching down, he used a couple of ties on Lightman as well, securing his wrists behind his back and getting his ankles. It was superfluous but he blindfolded the man before digging out two of the tiny vials and quickly preparing the injection. After the drug had been administered, the big man pulled the other up before maneuvering him across his shoulders in a fireman's hold.

"You got her?" He glanced behind him into the hallway

"Yeah, right behind you." Gillian was cradled a bit more intimately against the second man's chest.

They descended the stairs as quickly as possible, breathing hard under their respective loads.

The large SUV was parked right by the heavy metal door, but just out of sight of any security cameras.

Popping the tailgate, the big man dumped his charge in the back while the other went around to the backdoor and awkwardly laid Gillian on the seat.

"What time you got?"

"Almost nine."

"We'll call en route."

_**(BREAK)**_

Gillian's head and jaw ached horribly so it took several seconds before her memory caught up. _Oh my God. _She stayed completely still even as her pulse started to rocket. It was better that they continued to think she was unconscious.

They'd been arguing because of his cavalier attitude toward the Bainbridge trial. He'd been going out of his way to push all her buttons and she wasn't sure what pissed her off more. The fact that he was doing it or the fact that she was letting him do it. He'd smirked at her before bidding her a goodnight and had gone toward the elevators. They were all stuck on one of the bottom floors so he headed toward the stairs. She'd followed him for some reason. To make sure he was okay? To smooth over the fight? Probably just because she was a push over. She wasn't even completely sure now. But as Cal had entered the stairwell, a large figure in dark clothing and a ski mask had grabbed hold of him, wrapping an arm around his throat. She watched his eyes widen and his face slowly turn red, even as he violently struggled. In a panic, she'd turned to run back to the offices but someone else had caught up with her…

Shifting slightly, she felt leather under her cheek and the vibration of an engine. Her hands and feet were tied, a dark cloth was secure over her eyes and something was wadded in her mouth. Pushing her face against the seat, she tried to dislodge it but it didn't move. Heart hammering, she began to listen. Two men, voices low, one smooth and pleasant, the other slightly raspy, an ex-smoker's healing voice. They were currently talking about football but she hoped they'd shift into something a bit more helpful. Like where Cal was and what the hell they wanted.

There was a phone call several minutes later but it gave her little information other than she hadn't been part of the plan. Cal had been the lone target. Was he even in the vehicle with her? The seat seemed roomy enough to belong in a larger vehicle. Was he in the back? Trunk? She hadn't heard any noise indicating his whereabouts and the thought made her heart thump even faster. _Was he okay?_ It seemed probable that the man was easily capable of snapping Cal's neck. _Oh God_. She could feel a sob building in the back of her throat but fought it back. A tiny noise escaped in its place.

"Someone's awake." The smooth voice made the observation. "I apologize Dr. Foster. You weren't supposed to be part of this."

She didn't react, taking note that the vehicle was leaving the highway and slowing down. There was no way of knowing which direction they'd come. She could only listen carefully for some sort of clue but with the exception of the sound of a train, they were few and far between.

Finally, the car slowed again, making a turn before making another turn. This time there seemed to be dirt or gravel under the tires.

"Almost there!" The raspy voiced man announced with feigned cheerfulness.

A few moments later, the vehicle came to a stop and the engine cut out.

Doors opened abruptly and Gillian could feel cool air wash over her.

"Don't think you're going to need that out here." Strong hands removed the gag from her mouth. "Just be mindful if you start squawking too much, I'll put it back in."

Gillian pulled the cool air into her lung hungrily as she felt him cut the tie at her ankles. "My eyes…?"

"Sorry. Blindfold stays." The raspy voiced man actually did sound slightly apologetic.

"Where's Lightman?" She found her voice trembling, edging on panic.

She heard a heavier slam as a tailgate was pushed down. There was a grunt from the big man, like he was carrying some sort of burden. _Cal?_

"He's here."

"He's…okay?"

"Don't worry. He's fine. Just taking a little nap."

"What do you want?"

Naturally, the question went unanswered. One hand caught her arm and guided her away from the car.

"Careful, there's some steps. Three up."

Gillian heard the creaking of the porch as they climbed up, especially when the other man joined them, presumably carrying Cal. The sound of night insects pushed in around them creating a crescendo. They were still at the office around eight, but she had no idea how much time had elapsed since then.

Two locks were released and she was shepherded inside. Dust and mildew hung heavily in the stale air as she was guided a little further in. Fourteen steps brought her to the padded armchair where she was pushed down. Gillian bit back a whimper at the pain in her wrists. There was more movement around her at the same time she heard the squeak of springs as a body was unceremoniously dumped on a couch or bed just to her right. There still wasn't a sound out of him and she could feel her insides clenching painfully.

"What…what did you give him?"

Once again she didn't receive an answer and Gillian could feel her temper rising. "I don't know what the hell you want but I'd like to see if my friend is at least okay!" She swallowed and softened her voice. "Please."

One hand caught her chin, pressing in firmly, voice rasping in her ear. "You're not in any position to make demands. You be good and this will all be over in a couple of days." The grip on her face loosened.

A couple of days…just long enough for Cal to miss the trial.

Just long enough for Bainbridge to most likely walk free because of it.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Interested? Or is this actiondanger/adventure stuff getting old?**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Seems like the first chapter of this fic was missing in action for a bit. I apologize for that. Hopefully the internet gurus on the fanfiction site have it all ironed out now. :-)  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>"Please, my arms really hurt." Gillian added an extra hitch to her voice.<p>

She could sense indecision hanging in the air. The man with the baritone voice had slipped out leaving his partner alone.

"I don't think that's a good idea Dr. Foster."

"What do you think I'm going to do? I have no idea where I am, you have my partner and I'll be damned if I'm going anywhere without him. My purse and phone are locked in my desk at the office." She cleared her throat. "Please." They really did ache from the awkward angle and it felt like her wrists were chafing so she wasn't being completely disingenuous.

The man let out a sigh as he made his choice. "I can't risk you pulling off the blindfold. It would be way too dangerous for both of us but I'll try to make you a tiny bit more comfortable." He moved away for several moments and she could hear him open a door, root around in what she presumed was a closet. There was the sound of ripping cloth before he returned to her side. She inwardly gasped when she heard him flick out a knife but her bindings were quickly cut and the weapon folded and put away. Gillian automatically rubbed her wrists, wincing from the sting and feeling a tiny bit of wetness. "I'm sorry but I still need to tie you." One hand was placed on the arm of her chair and he quickly secured it with some kind of cloth before repeating with the other hand. "Hopefully that's a little better."

It was. Marginally. At least she could sit back into the cushion. "Thank you." She bit her lip, wondering how far she could push. "Is Lightman tied?"

There was a grunt of acknowledgement.

"Do you think you could do him the same courtesy?" This was the guy that had hit her and she was asking him for favors. _What the hell_? "What did you give him anyway?" Wouldn't hurt to try again.

"To be honest, I don't know what he used. I just know that our orders are for your boss to remain subdued."

Gillian swallowed as her heart started to race again. There were too many possibilities. Hopefully the other guy knew what he was doing because it wouldn't be hard for them to inadvertently kill Cal. "You're just going to keep him unconscious?"

"More or less."

"You realize that if you dose him too much, you could kill him."

"You can trust Ber-" He stopped himself. "He's had training."

_Why didn't she feel any better_?

"Look, I'll cut the plastic ties and use the cloth shreds on him too, 'kay?"

_**(BREAK)**_

There were voices but they all seemed full of mud, very much like his head. He tried to lift it just a little but couldn't. It was amazingly heavy.

Other parts of his body seemed just as heavy and he wasn't even sure where his arms went. They had to be around here someplace.

Movement. A bit of rough handling and he could suddenly feel them dangling at the ends of his shoulders right where they should have been. Silly things must have been hiding. Through the mud, he could feel the tingle of restoring circulation. God, he hated that.

He tried to part his eyes open and he thought that he was successful but all he saw was darkness. Three things: nighttime, a cave or dark room or he'd somehow gone blind. When did _that_ happen? Could he really be blind? Did blind people just see total darkness or were there gradations? Maybe he should read up on it. Wait a minute. If he was blind, he wouldn't be reading up on anything. He'd have to learn Braille. Shit, he was too old for that.

Someone was pulling at his arms again. They hurt and he tried to resist but he seemed to have the strength of a newborn. Ah hell.

His arms were yanked again. Someone was tying them. _Shit._

"Fucckkoffff." His voice gargled through the mud but he was pretty sure that it could be heard on dry land. He tried to roll away but his body didn't want to have anything to do with him.

"Sorry man." The apology sounded gruff, voice unfamiliar.

"Cal?" Another voice. This one he knew. He felt a little flutter in his chest.

"Uhhhh…" Well, _that_ was articulate. Let's try this again. "Zaajjilll…?"

"Yes, I'm here…fortunately or unfortunately depending on your point of view." She seemed relieved but was there some fear there? His head was so thick it was impossible to tell.

Gillian's heart jumped in her chest when she heard him swear. He sounded completely zonked but that single oath was reassuring in such a profound way. He was, in fact, there with her. Up to this point, she only had her ears and the word of her captors. She almost felt like crying in relief but quickly veered away. She needed to be strong and mindful.

Gregory was feeling indecisive again. Maybe he shouldn't have taken the plastic bindings off. But then again, what the woman said was true. Seriously. What were they going to do? Especially Lightman. He couldn't even sit up. It would be okay. Berk would be back soon with some supplies and then they could all tuck in for the next couple of days. Maybe it would be best for all concerned if he kept his distance from Dr. Foster. He got the feeling that she may not be above manipulation and he'd be damned if he'd let her get the drop on him. Yeah. Best to ignore her when possible…as hard as it might be. _Shit._ Berk would take some of the heat off when he got back. Hopefully he'd come bearing beer. That would be a very good thing. He moved out of the tiny living room and plopped onto a dining room chair. He could see them both just fine from there.

"Cal?"

"Uhhhh…?"

"Just checking if you're still awake."

"Uh."

_**(BREAK)**_

Finnley Bainbridge Senior saw it coming together perfectly. Once the case was thrown out (and he was now extremely confident that it would be), Finnley Junior would be on the first flight out of the states. That's how it needed to be. The kid was a little shit, guilty on all counts but unfortunately, his only son. A one way ticket to Brazil and he could take all his questionable tendencies with him and senior Finn could finish up damage control here. Without the lie expert, the prosecution's case was circumstantial. Lightman doesn't show and suddenly there's no one to walk the jury through all of his idiot son's fabrications. Case closed. Senior Finn could have had the man killed, but detained would work just fine. Discredited would be a nice bonus too if all went according to plan. Yeah, _Finnley Senior_ wasn't a killer. Puppet master maybe. Killer, no.

_**(BREAK) **_

Berkley was currently in a world of indecision. All in all, he considered himself a pretty good guy. He did his job well. Stayed professional and fair. Kept a calm head. Had studied hard in medical school. That's why he was having such a problem. He owed the old man a hell of a lot and loved him like a father. But then there was Finn. Finn was 'requesting' different plans and Berk didn't like them. Not at all. Finn was also a fucking loon behind smiling eyes...who was offering so much more. Enough that Berk could buy his own ticket. But it pretty much meant selling his soul and stepping over lines that he'd never crossed before. It was a hell of a quandary.

He slammed the door to the truck and went around to pull grocery bags from the back. He'd purchased enough for four days. Hopefully he could come to some kind of decision before then.

Once inside, he stopped, narrowing his eyes. Lightman was now awake. Not completely but was gradually becoming cognizant. He kept shifting on the old couch, his voice drunken and thick. Berk could barely understand him. It sounded like gibberish. Of course the accent didn't help.

Dr. Foster quieted, obviously listening for any shred of information they might supply her. He silently wished her good luck with that.

Greg was on his feet, grabbing at one of the bags. "I'd just about kill for a beer."

"Help yourself."

He did, the pop and fizz quickly following.

"Seems like one of our guests has awakened."

"More or less. Did tell me to fuck off though."

Berk smiled and a chuckle followed. "Probably be back to night night land for him soon."

"Is that really necessary?" Dr. Foster turned her head in the direction of their voices.

"Yes it is."

Gillian opened her mouth to contest, shut it, opened it again. "I'll talk to him. I'll get him to behave himself."

"Please don't take offense but I doubt he'd listen to you. Please know that we _have_ done our homework and this is just part of the job."

"Who the hell's that?" Cal's voice was still thick but Berk could actually understand the question now.

"No one of consequence sir."

"Bollocks." The mud was dispelling as anger slowly replaced it. Flickering memories were adding a clarifying element. "I'm on your shit list. I get that but why take Dr. Foster? I doubt she has anythin' to do with this."

"She doesn't. Just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Cal digested that, feeling nauseous. "She hasn't seen you. Let her go."

"Sorry. We can't do that."

Gillian could hear the desperate quality starting to establish itself in Cal's voice. He was terrified, but not for himself. For her. The realization made her insides clench.

"Look, you let her go and I'll be the perfect hostage. No mind games. No smart comments. Won't try anythin'."

"Oh, we _know_ you won't."

The implication hung above them. Nothing Cal could say would change a single thing. "Sorry Gill." The two words were heavy with misery.

She wanted to reach out and touch him and of course couldn't despite the fact that he was only a couple of feet to her right.

"Okay, this is what we're going to do." Berk sounded jovial. "You'll even be happy to hear it."

"That's likely." Cal returned dryly.

"You might be surprised." Berk lowered himself onto one of the dining room chairs just on the other side of the couch. "Can't just keep you tied and blindfolded for the next couple of days. That would just be cruel. So you're going to be locked in one of the upstairs bedrooms. I'm thinking that this is a bit of a kindness on our part so I trust you won't do anything to mess it up. Right Dr. Foster?"

Frowning, she cleared her throat. "Of course. What do you _really_ think _I_ might do?"

"Not sure. Just know that Dr. Lightman here won't be up for any kind of traveling." The baritone had lost its friendly edge.

Cal's lip curled up in anger but he didn't say anything.

"I understand." The prospect of being untied and having the damned blindfold off was, admittedly, pretty appealing. Hopefully, at that point, she could figure out a way to get them the hell out of there.

There was the rustle of a bag. "Now. Who's up for sandwiches?" The forced friendliness was back.


	3. Chapter 3

They were untied just to eat but when Cal's hand instinctively went to his eyes, powerful fingers closed around his wrist, stilling it. "Uh uh sir. You know the rules."

"Doesn't mean I have to like 'em."

"I'm sure."

"Cal…" Gillian's voice held a tiny point of warning. _Please don't antagonize them_.

She was somewhere to his left. Close. His hand changed direction and blindly reached out toward her. He felt her soft skin under his fingertips and she immediately grabbed his hand in response.

His hand was warm and dry, the tiny hairs on the back of it tickling under her fingers. Gill let out an internal sigh of comfort, but knew that it would be short lived.

"You okay luv?"

"Been better."

"He gave you a pretty nasty wallop." That was the last thing he remembered before waking up here. His anger was palpable.

She figured she had some bruising but she hadn't given it much thought. She just hadn't realized that Cal had seen it. "I'm okay."

Gregory was chewing on a wad of sandwich but looked up. He actually felt kind of bad about that. It had been done out of panic. He hadn't meant to hurt her. Of course she'd tagged him first. He had a swollen and bloody lip to prove it.

"Okay all. Eat up. Especially you." Berk nudged Cal's leg with his tennis shoe. "Should have sustenance in your system. Going to be bedtime soon."

"Peachy."

_**(BREAK)**_

The first attempt resulted in a boot to the knee for Berkley. He stumbled back and grunted in pain.

"Hold him."

"Trying!" Gregory was hanging onto Lightman's arms but the man was not having it. He tucked down and rolled off the couch, taking the other man with him. He was stronger than he appeared. Gregory landed on his ass with an 'oof.' As his grip loosened, Cal's elbow whipped around and nailed him high on the cheekbone.

"God damnit!" Gregory blanked but just for a moment.

Cal knew that it was a useless struggle but he couldn't placidly sit by while they shot him up with God knows what. He lashed out again with one foot but the larger man stayed back. Gregory was on him once again. This time when he grabbed Lightman's arm, he twisted it, pushing it upward toward the middle of his back. "Sorry man but we have to do this." The arm was given a rough jerk and Cal let out a groan, stopping his struggles. A little higher and the bone would break.

"Please! Don't hurt him!" Gillian cried out, hearing the fight, feeling so damned helpless.

"Okay. Go for it." The second man was panting.

Berk crouched down, pulling the cap off the syringe with his teeth. "I apologize for this. But judging from this little display, I won't be able to let as much time elapse between doses."

Cal felt the sting and initially felt nothing else. For about a minute. Then a swirling vortex was pulling at him and he had the distinct impression he was falling but how could that be? He was lying on the damned floor.

"Cal?" Gillian's voice was timid, fearful. She also sounded so far away and he missed her already.

"S'okay…luv." He struggled to lift his head, wondering if she was close enough to hear him. Blinking behind the blindfold for just a moment, he felt everything go limp.

Her tiny sob lurched out. "Cal…?"

Nothing.

Her head tilted forward as she took a deep trembling breath. _How could this be happening?_

"He's fine Dr. Foster." The baritone sounded just a couple feet away.

"Keeping him drugged is not _fine_." It was a hiss as anger pushed back despair.

"True. But it isn't something that's negotiable. Please trust that I know what I'm doing."

She snorted in derision. "Sure. Right."

Berk didn't answer. He grabbed Lightman under the arms and Greg grabbed the man's feet to take him upstairs.

Gillian could hear their heavy footsteps moving away from her, taking Cal with them. Waiting just a few seconds longer, she tested the strength of her bonds, hoping that maybe she could waggle them off the end of the armrest. She rotated her wrists back and forth before pulling and pushing but the cloth was too tight. There was nothing she could do. For now.

Greg was down just a few minutes later. He didn't say anything, just flipped open his knife.

She gasped at the sound and he immediately felt a pang of guilt. "I'm going to cut you free. Blindfold stays on until you're upstairs. Please do me a favor and don't try anything." He _really _hoped she wouldn't try to run for it because he'd have to stop her and he didn't want a repeat of what happened at the Lightman Group.

"I promise."

She sounded sincere, at least to _his _ears.

The knife smoothly bit through the rags and Gillian was pulled to her feet. She had thought about giving him a shove, running and bringing back help. But she also knew that that was a fantasy. She'd just have to sit tight and wait for some kind of opportunity. Whatever that might be.

_**(BREAK)**_

Even though artificial, the light still hurt her eyes. She raised her hand to the glare and squinted around her, immediately focusing on the double bed with a blindfolded Cal sprawled in the middle. Surprised that they'd allowed them to stay together, she was thankful nonetheless and stepped forward, sitting on the edge.

"Cal?" She gently removed the fabric from his eyes and touched his face, turning it toward her. It was pointless. She knew this but she couldn't help herself. "Cal?" Picking up one hand, she held it against her cheek. "We're going to get out of here. I promise you." She'd lowered her voice, just in case, before placing his hand on his chest.

Getting up, she paced the room, still squinting, eyes burning. Just the bed, a small bureau and two nightstands. One door opened to a coffin-sized closet and the other, fortunately, led to a tiny bathroom. Only one window graced the room and although big enough for her to wriggle through, there was a straight freefall outside, not to mention the fact that it was not only painted shut but nailed as well. Beyond the window all she saw was dense forest.

They'd covered their bases.

She just needed to wait for them to make a mistake.

With a sigh, she headed into the bathroom to give herself some semblance of a sponge bath. There were towels and washcloths hanging on the bar. They were old but clean. She was actually a little surprised by that.

The mirror didn't show a happy image. Gillian didn't really even want to look but did anyway. Her hair was in complete disarray, her eyes were bloodshot with dark shadows framing them and a purplish bruise was spreading across the left side of her jaw. With a sigh, she ran water and tried to scrub herself up the best she could before returning to the bedroom.

All she had was the dress she'd put on that morning. She hadn't thought to pack for a kidnapping. Her shoes were missing in action and her hose were shredded so she removed them. Undressing to her slip wasn't an option, so that was about as comfortable as she was going to get. Cal of course was still taking up most of the bed and she wondered about the logistics of moving him. Walking around to the other side, she did her best to maneuver him over. Pulling and yanking his prone form was no easy feat and she was breathing hard after just managing to move him a couple of inches. That was going to have to do.

Gillian went back to her side and laid down on her 12 inches of mattress space. Without much thought, she turned over, studying him. After all these years they were finally sleeping together. He'd be mad that he wouldn't remember it. A tiny giggle escaped her lips and she was disconcerted to find it mildly hysterical. She giggled again before it morphed into something else. Taking slow even breaths, she tried to ward them off but the sobs racked her regardless. She found herself edging even closer to Cal and leaning her head against his shoulder. His presence was comforting. She just wished he were awake.

_**(BREAK) **_

"My dad didn't come home last night!" Emily was taking great pains to keep it together but her insides were turning to Jello. Her instincts were generally pretty good, courtesy of genetics and right now they were telling her that something was desperately wrong. "His phone goes right to voice mail and Gillian hasn't been answering her phone either!"

Loker shot a look at Torres who just kept her face neutral.

"I saw that." Emily glared at him. "As much as I'd like to think they finally got it together, that's _not_ what happened."

Neither one attempted to contradict her, suspecting she was right. Both bosses had neglected to call in and while it certainly was within the realm of possibility for Lightman, it was in no way indicative of the way Foster did things.

Ria looped an arm around Emily's shoulders. "I admit that it does look odd. Let me just check with Heidi and Anna and see if maybe one of them took a message and forgot to pass it along before we jump to any conclusions."

"And then…?" The girl's brown eyes were wide.

"And then we call the cops."

"Are they at the trial?" Loker wrinkled his brow and glanced at Torres. "Isn't the Bainbridge trial today?"

"Crap. That _is_ today isn't it?" They stared at one another, thoughts forming. "Um, let's try calling them both again, just in case before we…" She left the thought hanging.

Emily was immediately on her phone, shaking her head when her dad, yet again, didn't answer. Disconnecting, she hit the direct dial for Gillian.

"Do you hear that?" Eli narrowed his eyes, listening.

"Yeah, I do." Frowning, Ria turned as they both followed the sound. Emily dropped the phone from her ear and trailed behind them.

"Try again."

The girl called again and they all now heard the ring tone coming from Gillian's office. Eli strode up to the desk and started hastily pulling open drawers. With a low curse, he broke the lock on the bottom one. Stopping, he stared for a moment before bending and pulling the bag out. "Phone's here…along with Foster's purse." He looked up, green eyes uneasy.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a warm and soft presence pressed against his side, but his mind wouldn't currently allow him to analyze it. The now familiar thick feeling was pushing in, preventing him from a single coherent thought. A groan rattled out from between his lips in frustration as he tried to lift his hand. Just one hand and he couldn't even do that.

He waited, knowing that he didn't have any other choice and tried to be patient. It was hard to be patient. He desperately wanted his faculties back. Besides, he had to pee like a horse.

A few minutes later he tried again. The hand was heavy but it kind of did his bidding. Now let's see about the rest of him.

Gillian startled out of her uneasy doze to find Cal shifting. It appeared as if he was trying to roll his body right off the edge of the bed.

"Cal?" Both hands caught his arm.

"Uh."

"You're going to hurt yourself." She had images of him crashing to the wooden floor. Of course in his rag doll like state, he probably would barely notice. She moved one hand to touch his face.

"Uh."

Watery light leaked in through the dusty window and she guessed it was just after dawn. Nothing could be heard from downstairs or anywhere else. Maybe they liked to sleep in.

Cal tried to roll again and he fought her as she held onto him.

"Cal. It's Gillian. You need to stop."

"Uh." Just a moment later, she caught a sliver of hazel as his unfocused eyes tried to lock on her. "Zjillll."

"Yeah."

"Wherrareweee?

"Wish I knew."

"Havtopee."

She blinked. "Oh." As if she could actually carry him to the bathroom. "Think you can stand?"

"Ummmm…" He tried to push himself up, foundered for a moment before trying again. She quickly moved to the other side of the bed to catch his arm. With a lurch, he pushed himself up and almost knocked her over. She grabbed him in a body hug to keep them both from crashing to the floor but wound up taking more of his weight than she anticipated. In an awkward dance, she took a step back, her body already starting to tremble from strain.

"Please Cal." It came out from between clenched teeth.

"Sorrrryy." He concentrated on just keeping his legs under him and they were still for several moments. "ThinkIcannn…" Taking a step, he felt her arms loosen ever so slightly but not leave. She stayed in step with him as they made their way across the room.

He leaned against the doorjamb, blinking. "Somethin's aman's gotta do for himmmselffff." And he managed a smile. It was dopey but teasing and Gillian felt a little swell in her heart.

Cal disappeared inside and she wandered away, stopping at the door to the hallway, trying the knob, knowing that it was pointless. She listened for a tiny bit before stepping toward the window. A small weed ravaged lawn quickly disappeared into a thick copse of trees. She strained to the left to see more of the same then shifted to the right. Just barely she could make out the back of some kind of SUV parked around the corner and could only presume the road out of here was south. The vehicle had driven over gravel or dirt but the path hadn't been overly rutted, making her believe that they may not be off the beaten track as much as she'd initially thought. Of course she could be wrong too.

_**(BREAK)**_

Greg gave a stretch, hearing all the pops and creaks ravage through his body. He was the one that drew the short straw that landed him on the couch while Berk got the other bedroom. Lucky bastard.

He sat up and listened, wondering if their guests were awake, wondering if Berk had already checked in on them. With another grunt, he pushed to his feet and headed toward the kitchen for something to drink. Not much in the fridge. Apparently his partner wasn't much of a shopper. Beer or OJ. With a shrug, he grabbed a beer and headed out the screen door to sit on the steps. He stopped short when he almost ran into Berk.

The big man was sitting on the ancient wooden bench, one foot propped up on the railing. Tendrils of smoke rose around him as he pulled on his cigarette and exhaled. His expression seemed contemplative but strangely troubled and Greg wondered if he _really_ wanted to know what the other man was thinking. On paper, so to speak, this assignment had seemed pretty cut and dried but now he couldn't shake a sense of foreboding. Berkley was currently only adding to the unease.

Greg announced his presence by popping open his beer.

His partner turned his head ever so slightly and gave a nod.

"Was it today or tomorrow?" Greg stretched his neck to the side to relieve himself of one final kink.

"Trial's today."

"Does the old man see any hitches?"

"Don't think so."

They were quiet for a moment. A soft wind rustled through tree limbs, birds could be heard squawking and looking for breakfast and if you listened _really really_ carefully, an occasional car could be heard on the old highway. Fortunately not a lot of people used it anymore after the freeway was built years ago.

"Any changes in the plan?" He meant it to sound casual and he thought he was successful.

Berk grunted and flicked his cigarette over the railing. He immediately lit another. Greg always thought it was funny that a man of medicine could smoke. He himself had given up the habit 7 months ago after smoking for twenty-five years.

"What about the woman?"

The other man didn't answer. Greg felt his stomach twist in upon its self. He didn't take that as a good thing.

_**(BREAK)**_

Gillian turned from the window at the same moment that the bathroom door was pulled ajar.

Cal took a shaky step forward before stopping and leaning against the frame, staring downward, blinking forcefully.

"Hey." She started toward him as he took another tentative step and proceeded to fall to his knees.

"Cal!" At his side in a heartbeat, she helped pull him to his feet and back toward the bed where he sat heavily, eyes sliding closed before popping open again. She sat next to him

"Ow." His head turned toward her. "This sucks."

Air pushed out of her in a shaky smile. "Yeah."

"Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb will probably be up any minute." His eyes were clearing ever so slightly, enough for her to see worry. "What are the odds that this is all about Bainbridge?"

"That was my thought."

"I fucked up." A muscle in his jaw pulsed. "I underestimated the family."

There was nothing she could say to that, so she placed a hand on his shoulder before it slid down and lightly rubbed his back.

"Gillian."

"Hmmm?"

His expression sharpened, eyes serious. "If you get the chance I want you to take it. Get the hell outta here."

Jaw pushing out slightly, she stared back. "No Cal. Both of us or neither one."

He frowned and started to shake his head before wincing slightly and stopping. "They've made me a burden. I would only slow you down. You catch a break and you can bring back the National Guard if you'd like."

"At which point they might just decide to cut their losses and make you disappear for good."

They continued to stare at one another, her expression defiant, his slightly desperate.

"Have you seen or heard anything that might help us?"

"Only what I can get from their voices. The first one is keeping his distance and the second one is trying. I think that one might be a little hesitant about their whole plan. I can hear some guilt although I can't be sure exactly where it's coming from."

"What they've done or what they're planning to do."

"Maybe."

Cal reached over and almost touched her face, stopped for a moment before proceeding. He threaded his fingers into her hair, palm against her cheek and held her face firmly, noting her surprise but also noting she did nothing to pull away. "Listen Gillian. You need to reconsider. If a break comes your way, you have to take it." His eyes were intensely delving into hers but as she watched, the look of command became a look of pleading.

She covered his hand with her own. "It's not negotiable. I'm not leaving you."

Tilting his head he studied her closely but his muddled brain wouldn't give him the answers to a proper read.

"Don't do that Cal. You probably wouldn't be right anyway." For a moment she was afraid he would see something that flickered through her the second he touched her face.

There was sudden banging at the door that made them both jump followed by a raspy voice announcing breakfast.

In that moment she felt his tense muscles go rock hard under her hand.

The door unlocked and both men entered wearing their masks from the previous night.

It seemed silly but if their captors were still hiding their identities, there was still a chance that they might get out of this thing alive. It was a good theory at least.

Cal glanced at them quickly before looking back down, knowing what was in store for him, wondering if it would be worth his while to try to elicit some pain from them. He had managed get some good hits in last night. He felt Gillian looking at him but wouldn't meet her eye.

"Well, we're not a 5 star restaurant or anything but I do make some pretty good eggs if I say so myself."

Gillian could hear a smile behind the raspy voice but it only continued to puzzle her. His voice appeared genuine.

"Toast and juice too."

He slipped forward and placed the food on the bureau. The other man hung back, waiting and watching. He hadn't said a word.

"No insulting the chef. 'Kay?" Greg gave them each a long look. "In other words, you _both_ need to eat."

_**(BREAK)**_

Cal didn't fight this time. He faced the situation almost like an accepting prisoner on death row. And it broke Gillian's heart.

As she watched him slump, tears silently coursed down her face. She lifted her gaze to the other two men. "_I wish I knew what the point of this is. It's just sick and_ _twisted and it'll be a miracle if you don't inadvertently kill him_." Her voice was scalding, eyes flashing up at them.

The _point _was for him to have very little memory of where he'd been. Bainbridge liked the idea of fusing the perfect scenario together in such a way so the DA would never give Lightman a second look, let alone allow him to be an 'expert witness' ever again. At least that's what the old man wanted. Finn, on the other hand…well, he wanted something a little different. And the jury was still out, relatively speaking. Berkley hadn't come to a real decision yet. What Foster said was not outside the realm of possibilities. Lightman _could_ very well die. But there was still time. A little bit at least. One way or another, everything would be coming to fruition very soon.

Greg stared down at her, guilt and worry nipping at him. The tears continued to flow but she'd spoken around them, strength emanating from her. He was impressed. She was a hell of a woman and very much in love with her partner. Made her angry and not above the point of being dangerous. Give her a weapon and he felt confident that she'd be more than happy to use it on them. He let out a sigh. "I'm sorry Dr. Foster." With that, he followed Berk out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Finn Bainbridge was a happy man.

Lightman didn't show so Finn had his freedom. The look on the prosecutor's face was priceless when the judge tossed the case out. He wished he had had a camera but he had the next best thing: a really good memory.

Now it was time for a little fun. The old man wanted him to hop the first flight out of the country but that would interfere with his plans. Make so mistake, he did plan on lying on a Rio beach very soon but there was something he wanted to take care of first. Berkley hadn't said that he'd help him yet but Finn was confident he would. Whoever had the gold, made the rules and Finn had a hell of a lot of gold.

Both the old man and his attorney were currently talking to him. Correction, they were talking _at_ him. Something about how he needed to watch himself, keep his nose clean and other assorted clichés until he was on that flight. Finn wasn't really paying attention. His mind's eye was filled with something else and it made him giddy as he thought about it. After all, his imagination was like a high definition movie. And his imagination was currently filled with revenge scenarios. It was because of Lightman that he'd been stuck wearing orange pajamas for the last several months and it was payback time. It was just too good to be true that Lightman's partner had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Of course for Finn, it was actually the right place at the right time. From everything he knew, Foster was Lightman's Achilles Heel. And Finn fully intended to exploit that weakness.

"Finnley, do you hear what we're telling you?" The old man's voice was exasperated. He sounded like that a lot.

"Of course dad," and he proceeded to repeat what had been said verbatim. He really _hadn't_ been paying attention but some part of him heard and memorized. It was a gift.

"Good." Senior Bainbridge grunted but didn't sound satiated. He knew his son too well. "One more thing."

"Yes dad?"

The older man looked at his son, scrutinizing him, knowing about him, loving him despite what he was. Finn Jr. had been a change of life baby. At 27, he was smart, charming, handsome and ambitious. But he also had a deadness behind his eyes that most people didn't see. His father saw it from the moment he caught him torturing a baby bird when he was five. Lightman had also seen it. Almost immediately.

"I want you to stay away from him."

"Who?"

Finnley senior narrowed his eyes. "You know damned well who I'm talking about."

"I thought you had that all taken care of." Finn raised his brows innocently.

"Don't try that garbage with me. I know you too well." It should have been angry but it just sounded tired.

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about dad."

The older man sighed. "I _am_ having it taken care of. He shouldn't remember much of anything and that's going to work out perfectly for us. I don't want you mucking it up."

"Wouldn't dream of it." The comment was snide but the smile was sincere.

The old man hated that smile. Maybe it would be a good idea to have someone keep an eye on the kid. Just in case.

_**(BREAK**_)

"DA just called." Loker found Torres in the lab. His expression was grim. "Lightman didn't show. Bainbridge walked."

"Oh my God." She looked up, meeting his eyes. "Are the cops going to lift the 72 hour policy considering the situation?"

"Looks like he's going to lean on them. Whole thing smells bad to him too."

Torres nodded, eyes sliding away, expression bordering on horror as she considered the ramifications. "I can't believe that sadistic bastard is free." Her words were low as his image invaded her head for several moments. She unconsciously shuddered.

Eli placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

_**(BREAK)**_

Finn knew that the old man would have one of his watchdogs keeping an eyeball on him. He would have been surprised if he hadn't. But Finn was smart. Smarter than most people. That's why the law hadn't really been able to gather an adequate case against him. That's why they had to rely on Lightman to reel him in and pull off his carefully constructed mask. A flare of anger shot through him before he took a breath and calmed himself. It's okay. It's all okay. The son of a bitch wasn't going anywhere thanks to Berk. He was helpless and waiting, practically dressed like a Christmas goose. Finn smiled at the image.

He'd retired to his room citing fatigue but he was anything but tired. Pacing heavily, his brain continued to fantasize. They were angry, blood drenched fantasies and they made him extremely excited.

Now all he had to do was wait. A little bit of patience and the night would be wide open to him.

The smile broadening, he pulled out his phone.

_**(BREAK)**_

Gregory needed something to do with his hands. At one time he would have just lit up a smoke but now he flicked out his pocketknife instead and whittled. His mind went on cruise control as he worked. He really didn't want to think. If he thought, he'd picture Dr. Foster crying and angry, he'd think about how this job was starting to carry an increasingly foul odor. He'd think about how he was up to his eyeballs in something that he didn't want to be up to his eyeballs in. And then he'd think about her again. _Shit_.

He brought the knife up and down in a steady fluid motion, the sharp blade easily skinning off the bark and nubs as the end whittled to a spear like point. As much as he tried to ward off the images, they invaded just the same. Maybe he just needed to cut his losses but then where would that leave Foster and Lightman? Gregory was afraid that he might just know the answer to that question and it made him feel sick inside. Of course there wasn't much _he_ could do. The idea of being on the old man's shit list was one thing but being on Finn's shit list…that was an entirely different beast. He shuddered to think about it. That guy was fucking nuts.

Fragments of conversation drifted his way from around the corner of the house. Berk usually roamed as he spoke on the phone. That was normal but the bits of dialogue that Greg caught on the breeze weren't. He stilled his hands and strained to listen.

"…I'll come back to help with clean up but I'm not going to stick around…"

That was all he caught. That's all he needed to catch. A terrifying coldness seeped into him as his testicles pulled up into his body. _Fuck_. His instincts had been right. _Fuck_. But what could _he_ do?

Tossing the stick aside, Greg got up quickly and slid noiselessly back into the cabin. He didn't want Berk to know that he'd been eavesdropping. He was to know nothing unless told directly. That was how it worked.

He paced the room a half a dozen times before flopping into the armchair. He could vaguely smell Foster's perfume and immediately jumped back to his feet. Greg found himself back at the fridge, grabbing another beer, wishing for something stronger. Sitting down at the table, he proceeded to busy his hands again. This time he sharpened his knife. The wood would have no doubt dulled it slightly and he didn't like that. A dull knife was perhaps more dangerous in some ways than a sharp one. He concentrated, pretending not to hear the screen door when Berk walked in. At that point he closed and pocketed his knife.

"Have some news."

Greg glanced up, feigning disinterest. "Yeah?"

Berk was looking down, frowning at the wooden floor. "Looks like you've got a 'get out of jail' card."

Narrowing his eyes, he stared at the other man. "Why's that?"

He finally looked up. "Just a change of plans. You'll get the full amount that you were promised, so don't worry about that."

"So I'm getting the boot? You don't need me help any longer?"

"Have everything under control."

"What's going to happen with-?" He jerked his head toward the stairs.

"Not your concern anymore." Berk's eyes were flat, like mirrors. _Hanging out with Finn too much?_

With a hopefully not too exaggerated shrug, Greg got to his feet. " 'Kay, let me just grab my stuff and I'll bail." He gulped the rest of his beer before heading upstairs. He'd dumped his rucksack in the second bedroom when they'd arrived here, not realizing that he'd be stuck with the couch.

The other man nodded distractedly before stepping into the living room and dropping himself heavily on the couch. His conscious was currently kicking the shit out of him. He'd always been a fairly decent guy and soon he wouldn't be able to look in a mirror and think that about himself ever again. One big hand rubbed over his face in fatigue. He wasn't physically tired but mentally, that was another story. Part of him was disbelieving about what he was going to do. The other part insisted that _he_ wasn't doing anything at all, _he_ was just looking the other way, that's all. _Shit_. He rubbed his face again, this time purposely making it hurt. _So much for being a man of medicine._

_**(BREAK)**_

Greg grabbed his bag from the second bedroom but couldn't help but stop a moment and listen at the door to the other room. He heard the occasional drunken sounding murmur followed by Foster's voice, low, kept to a whisper. She was being extremely careful. Not that it mattered.

The nausea returned and he tried to shake it off as he stepped away from the door.

_They didn't have a chance. They were probably going to die tonight._

He stopped again, the nausea continuing to rise up. Any moment he'd be puking on his boots. Closing his eyes, he took a couple of deep, cleansing breaths. It helped. A tiny bit at least.

_Not a fighting chance._

Greg remembered the look on her face. He remembered thinking that she'd happily use a weapon on them to protect herself and Lightman.

_Maybe they should have a fighting chance._

_ Risky. Very risky._

The old man had plans that hadn't involved anyone dying but his son had apparently paid off Berkley. Greg was actually a little surprised by that. He didn't think Berk was the type of guy that would be bought off by a first rate psycho. Must have been an exceptional offer. He supposed most people must have a price.

_They deserved a chance_.

An anonymous call would be good but it would take Finn all of 5 minutes to figure who ratted. Unless he went to the old man directly with his suspicions, but that would still be construed as a betrayal. From _both_ of them.

_Fuck my life_.

Making his decision, he pulled his knife from his pocket, wiped it carefully with his shirttail, leaned over and slid it under the door.

Throwing his rucksack over his shoulder, he purposely kept his gait casual and headed back down the stairs.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Hope there wasn't TOO much exposition in this chapter. <em> _I try to be concise but sometimes, well, it doesn't work out that way._**


	6. Chapter 6

Gillian spent a lot of time pacing, looking intently out the window and watching Cal breath. Sometimes it seemed as if he struggled to bring in the occasional breath and that scared the hell out of her. He hadn't regained consciousness yet and that scared her just as much.

There was nothing in the room she could use to defend them either. She been through it from top to bottom and there were no loose boards, nothing under the sink in the bathroom, nothing in the closet. And she was starting to think that they really may not get out of this.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she sat next to him on the bed and lightly brushed his hair back with her fingertips before running them down his jaw. Shouldn't he be waking up already? She felt her throat start to close at the thought of losing him. _He_ _couldn't die_. That just wasn't possible. He was Cal Lightman. Lie Detection extraordinaire. Brilliant, strong, assertive, abrasive, dedicated, unwavering, loyal…and also very human. The swelling in her throat almost turned into a sob, which she quickly swallowed down. _No_. She wasn't going to lose it again.

On impulse, she got back up, went into the bathroom, grabbed a washcloth and ran it under some cool water. Returning, she sat on the edge of the bed and gently wiped his face.

Cal flinched at the contact, moving his face away ever so slightly and Gillian's breath caught in relief. "Cal?"

He didn't initially react and she felt disappointment spiral into her stomach. She tried again. "Cal?"

"Mmm."

The breath rushed out of her and she closed her eyes for a moment.

"Colldd."

"Sorry. It was just worth a shot."

"Wha was?"

"You've been out a long time."

He didn't open his eyes, but he did frown. "Wherrre arrrre weeee?"

"Same place as before."

The frown deepened as his eyes slid partially open. He stared at her, puzzled, obviously not remembering.

"We were abducted." Gillian prodded, keeping her voice low.

Cal stared a moment longer before awareness settled into his features. "Shiiit." One shaky hand found his forehead and rubbed fingers across it. "Gillllian, ittt's reallllly hazzzy."

"They came to the office. Two of them." She turned away and casually tossed the washcloth on the nightstand. "They've been keeping you drugged."

"Sommethinn' to do with Bainnnbridgge." He looked up, his eyes widening. "Iiii missssed the trialll."

"Yes."

"He walkeddd."

Gillian let out a trembling sigh, picturing the handsome young man with the propensity for insatiable cruelty. "Probably."

Cal sat up too quickly and she watched as he whitened. She leaned forward to grip his upper arms. "Careful."

He stilled for a moment before continuing to slowly pull himself up, his back against the headboard. She scooted toward him, still holding on.

"Feeell like I'vve losst about a hunndred IQ poinntss." He looked at her through murky eyes. Blinking, he tried to clear them. Some part of his brain took note of her close proximity but couldn't come close to deciphering her expression. He could, however, vaguely smell her perfume.

"I'm sure they'll be back when you're feeling better." Gillian hesitantly let go but one hand ran down to rest on his forearm, squeezing gently.

He grunted, eyes closing.

A quiet shuffle outside had Gillian pivoting toward the door, heart suddenly galloping. _No, no, no. Not again. Please._

There was silence but she couldn't shake the feeling that one of them was out there waiting. _But for what?_ She stopped breathing just for that moment.

A low tapping sound against the floor and then something was slid underneath. Footsteps quickly moved away.

_What the hell?_

"Are they commming backkk?" Cal reacted to the sudden tension rolling off her. He forced both eyes open again, anxiety clenching his insides painfully. He was aware of the fear in his words and felt immediate disgust with himself.

"I'm…not sure." She got up, crossed to the door and stared down, confusion and fear at war.

A pocketknife with an elegant mother of pearl handle lay at her feet.

_**(BREAK)**_

"You realize that there's no way in hell that they're going to let you talk to him, right?" Reynolds whipped his head toward Torres.

"Yeah, I know. Don't want to see Junior, let alone talk to him." She squeezed her lips together in a straight line.

"We're just hoping to get something off the old man." Loker was in the backseat, hands folded across his chest.

"Sure. He's just going to confess: 'Yeah, I did have them kidnapped 'cause I wanted my mental case of a kid to walk away from four counts of torture with two counts of attempted murder.'" Reynolds blew air out in a huff. Lightman and Foster were missing without a trace and at this point they had nothing to lose. Didn't keep him from being pissed off though. "There's no guarantee that Senior Bainbridge will talk to us either."

"Have to try." Torres glanced over at the agent, face grim. "I can't help but think we're running out of time."

"This might prove to be a wild goose chase."

"We're just hoping that one good read could open the door for something more. The DA's trying to pull some strings for a search warrant but…"

"Ah, the joy of expensive lawyers."

"That about covers it."

Reynolds made a left and steered the car forward into the long driveway. About a quarter of a mile through twist and turns, the large colonial came into view. The estate was huge, with stables, swimming pools and a tennis court. Some people never seemed to have enough.

He parked directly in front of the huge front terrace and all three climbed from the sedan. Loker peered around, wearing his disdain like an army medal.

Torres commiserated with him but kept her expression neutral. "You might want to turn that down a bit." She nodded to Eli's face.

"These people make me sick."

"I know."

Reynolds was already ringing the buzzer and the other two hurried to catch up.

Just moments later, a young lady with dark doe-like eyes answered the door. Her smile was hesitant. "Yes?" She was actually in a maid's uniform.

Loker bit his tongue when Torres flashed him a look of warning.

"We were hoping to have a word with Mr. Bainbridge Senior." Reynolds kept his voice amiable.

The eyes shot between all three of them nervously. "Appointment?"

Showing his badge, he went for the bluff, knowing he couldn't just walk in but counting on the girl's ignorance. "FBI business."

"Oh. I see. One minute please?" She shut the door in their faces.

They were quiet for a moment before Loker stated what appeared to be the obvious. "Well, that went well."

The door was suddenly pulled open and Loker startled into silence as the girl peeked out at them once again. "Please, come in."

They stepped into a wide entry with marble floors that gleamed as if spit shined and followed her two doors to the right where they were deposited into a library. Warm wood and leather contrasted heavily with the cold entry.

"Mr. Bainbridge will be with you in a moment."

"Thanks." Reynolds glanced at both Torres and Loker, eyebrows up.

"He probably figures that it would look odd if he _didn't_ talk to us. He'll try to avert suspicion." Torres hoped that she was right.

"Makes sense."

Eli roamed the room, peering at old books and naval memorabilia. He stopped at a stand-alone globe and gave it a slow spin with his forefinger. "Pricey."

"Then don't touch it." Torres hissed at him as the door opened.

"What is this all about?" Finnley Senior now glared at them from behind his rimless glasses.

"Sorry sir. We don't mean to interrupt but we were looking into the disappearances of Dr. Cal Lightman and Dr. Gillian Foster." Ben's voice was smooth like honey, used to placating people.

"And what do you expect from me?" His watery brown eyes moved between all three of them.

"We just thought it was interesting that the one man who could have put away your son for a very long time today suddenly disappears without a trace." Torres knew she was goading and ignored the glare Ben gave her.

"Young miss, I have no idea what happened." His eyes were on hers intently. "All I can figure is Dr. Lightman got distracted by some pretty tail and blew off his responsibilities."

"Even Lightman has his priorities. Work first, women second." Loker stepped forward. "Your scenario seems pretty unlikely."

"Well, what can I say? The man has a reputation for that kind of thing. It just happened to work out for my son, who by the way, was being railroaded by a farce of a justice system."

"So you have no idea where they might be?" The direct question came from Torres.

"Why would I? For all I know, they took off together. Pretty cozy aren't they?"

"Okay sir. I'm sorry we bothered you." Ria smiled.

Taking her lead, Ben pulled out a card and handed it to Bainbridge. "If you think of anything, please give me a call."

"Of course." He seemed puzzled by their sudden withdrawal. "I hope they turn up unharmed."

"Thanks. So do we." Ria passed by him with Reynolds and Loker following behind.

"He's involved." They'd barely gotten back into the car when Ria made the declaration. "Deflected a direct question. Lots of shoulder action, although he kept his face pretty neutral."

"I agree." Eli nodded from the back seat. "I think he's one slippery old bastard."

"May not be enough to help the DA though."

Reynolds was right. It would remain to be seen.

_**(BREAK) **_

Finnley Senior poured himself some cognac before settling into his favorite chair. The liquor pleasantly burned down his throat as he attempted to get a handle on his whirling thoughts. He'd be happy when it was all over with but he couldn't shake the feeling that things were heading off their current path. _No_. As long as he kept Finn inside, it should all be good. _But what were the odds?_ The kid was a slippery little devil.

Gazing out the window, he watched the shadows grow long. It would be dark in an hour or so. Keep the kid contained for the night and he'd be on his way to Brazil tomorrow. Simple. _Of course it was_, his inner voice snapped sarcastically at him.

Taylor was keeping an eye on him, just to be sure. He could be trusted to do his job.

_Still._

He poured another drink.

It didn't help dispel the deep feeling of unease though.

Maybe he should call Berkley. He'd always been reliable, even when Finn was not. Almost like a son. He sometimes secretly wished that Berk _were_ his son instead. It would certainly have made things a lot easier.

But easy wasn't something his life _ever_ was.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Still suspenseful or is it drawing out?<strong>_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Thanks for the comments and reviews. Hope no one is disturbed too much by this particular fiction. I tend to find my thoughts in dark places sometimes... (should I be worried? Nah.) ;-)  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>"Whatt iss it?" Cal squinted, trying to focus.<p>

Gillian leaned over, her fingers curling around the weapon, heart accelerating, nausea rising. Guilt had gotten the best of the one. He was trying to give them some semblance of a chance. Against _what _Gillian could only imagine.

She crossed back to the bed, once again sitting on the edge next to him and held it out.

Cal's hand was shaking slightly and she had a moment of indecision as to whether she should relinquish the knife to him. But when his fingers grazed hers to remove it, her own had lost their strength.

"Guesss thinngs are commming to a headd." His voice was soft as he opened the knife with his thumb. It was well oiled and lovingly maintained with a narrow but razor sharp 4-inch blade. He inspected in for another moment before carefully folding it and placing it on the nightstand. His eyes met hers to find them terrified and rimmed in tears. Words were lost for several long moments as they watched one another.

"I'm really scared Cal." Her voice trembled but he could still hear the underlying strength that he always knew was there.

"I know luvvv. Weee jusst need to hannng in a littttle lonnnger."

"I don't think I can…" She let the thought drop as her face fell.

With one shaking hand, he took her chin and made her meet his eyes again. "Wittth anyyy luckkk you wonnn't havvve to." His gaze grew intense. "Buttt you havvve to be readddy to runnn if you…"

She immediately started shaking her head.

"…gettt the channnce. I meannn it."

"No. I already told you-"

"I donn't care wha you alreadddy tollld mee." His hand was firm on her face. "I'mmm nottt goinnng to let youuu throw yourrr life away cuz of my fuckk upp."

"And I'm not going to let you play the martyr." The tears were still threatening but her eyes pierced into him.

They were once again at an impasse.

"You'rrre an exceptionalllly stubborn womannn." He loosened his grip on her face but his gaze was no less intent.

"You're just figuring that out?"

"Pleasse Gilll…"

"No."

His head was swimming and he really wasn't up to arguing with her. Instead, he reached over, plucked the knife from the nightstand and pushed it into his pocket. "Whetherrr youu like it or nott, I plannn on tryin' to give youu an opening." He let his eyes slide shut to block out her look of outrage.

"Don't you even think about it!" Her voice was angrier than he ever heard it and that was saying something. "In your condition they'll just take it away and use it on you."

"Enough of a distractionnn for you to get awayyy."

Her jaw sagged. His eyes remained closed but his voice was deadly serious. He had every intention of sacrificing himself. _For her_. She shook it off and tried a different approach. "What if I can't get away?"

"Thenn we probabllly cann't be anyy _worsse_ off."

The finality of his words chilled her. "You really think…?"

"Dunnno darrlinn'. Doesnn't look verrry good thoughhh." He felt so damned helpless. He was letting her down and he couldn't do a single thing about it. Chancing a look at her, Cal saw the devastation without even trying. His doped state couldn't even hide it from him. Without another thought, he reached out and pulled her close.

She gave no resistance and was soon cuddling into his side, temporarily finding a tiny bit of comfort in his arms. Gillian allowed her eyes to close.

Cal held her tightly, his cheek pressed against her hair, breathing in her scent. This _should have been_ wonderful. _God he wished the circumstances were different._

_**(BREAK)**_

John Taylor was a good employee. He'd served senior Bainbridge for close to twelve years as a chauffer, among other duties.

Finn also knew that he had a propensity for Bourbon. He wasn't particularly high brow about it either. Jack Daniels or Jim Beam worked just fine, thank you very much. And that's what Finn made sure he had on hand. Bourbon whiskey and a deck of cards. Nothing wrong with a friendly game of poker between gentlemen.

Smiling at the older man, he watched as Taylor decided if he wanted to call or fold. He'd probably fold. He usually did.

They were downstairs in the den. Finn liked this room a lot. Partially because of the fireplace, partially because of the 60 inch plasma TV and partly because there were French doors leading to the grounds. That had been a happy thing for him since he was about twelve.

His dad was off tending to business. Most likely the business of sweeping the dirt under the rug. He'd been doing it for years. Finn was constantly amazed at how dedicated his father was to him, almost wishing he could feel the same. _Almost._

Taylor was starting to blink a little heavily.

"You okay there Johnny?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just a little tired."

"It's early man."

Taylor nodded. "Long day I guess."

_Yeah. That and a couple of roofies will do that to you_.

Finn grinned benignly. "You want to pick up tomorrow?"

"Hell no. You're not gonna get out of an ass whooping that easily kid." He smirked, blinked and swayed.

Finn wondered if he was going to fall facedown on the table or slide right out of his chair and land on the floor. "Course. You're just too much of an old pro at this game."

"Are you handing me a line?"

"I'd _never _do that. You know me."

"Yeah, a litttlle toooo welllll."

_Huh. Where should I begin the countdown? At 20 or 10? Hopefully dad won't_ _decide to pop in and check on them_. He didn't think so but you never knew.

The man's eyes began to sag before they popped open again.

How about 15? Finn clocked it in his head, continuing to smile at his poker opponent. 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10…

Taylor went limp fish and slid right out of his chair.

_Huh._ Didn't get to zero.

Finn got to his feet and scrutinized the other man for a moment. Not the best thing to mix with alcohol. Oh well. He'd probably be okay.

Grabbing his jacket, he slipped out through the double doors and headed toward the barn. His tools were safely hidden away. He needed them tonight. A shudder passed through him. He was so fucking excited he was starting to get hard.

_**(BREAK) **_

Gregory couldn't find a single place to put himself. He'd arrived back at his tiny apartment about an hour ago and no matter what he did, he couldn't turn off his brain. His thoughts were constantly assaulting and accusing.

He hadn't signed up to be a party to murder. His hands had been dirtied plenty of times but he'd never, ever crossed that line. And now here he was, turning his back on those two people, fully aware of what was in store for them.

Two glasses of rum didn't help. He'd stopped there because to be completely honest, he hadn't come to any kind of decision yet. Sure, he thought he had but _that_ one wasn't working for him.

Her face floated up behind his eyes again. Anger, fear and tears. He even thought about Lightman, knowing that the man couldn't have done _anything_ so horrible to justify what Finn probably had planned. Putting that guy away would have been a good thing. The funny thing is that Finn would probably agree. In his warped, fucked up view of things, he still knew what he was. But naturally he liked his freedom. Gave him a huge playground to pursue his warped games.

If he stepped up and tried to do the right thing, it was probable that his own life would be forfeit. With pain and lots of it.

_Shit._


	8. Chapter 8

Cal held her a little tighter, trying not to think about how this might never happen again. Trying not to think about how he should have pushed the envelope and tried to move them beyond friendship. His mind was still murky but all this sifted through the fog in an emotional sucker punch that made him want to roar in anger with the unfairness of it all.

A frown took over his features before his eyes opened and widened. "Wha arrre youu doin'?"

Gillian's nimble fingers had taken advantage of his proximity, weeding their way into his pocket and pulling out the knife. "You'd be useless with this and they wouldn't expect it from me. Bainbridge has always targeted fragile women." She sat up, and placed the weapon behind her on the bed.

He stared at her, impressed by the sudden show of strength that he'd known was lurking beneath the surface but the only thing he could think to say was: "Youu shoulddd attleasst buyy mee dinnnerr beforrre you feeell mee upp."

Incredulous, a half-laugh erupted from her throat as a tiny smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "You're absolutely incorrigible." The words were soft, almost as if she were acknowledging it for the first time.

"Youu knew thaatt before we even becammme partnerrss."

"Suspected it."

"Whattevverr."

Despite the situation, Gillian felt her face burn. He _always _knew how to push her buttons. As she stared down at him, a familiar longing tugged at her insides. This was all so unfair. Everything wasn't meant to end here. _And it won't_. It _can't._

His hand was gently stroking her arm and she blinked at the realization and followed its progress. It seemed to trail a tingling warmth behind it and she had to consciously fight off a shiver. Her eyes moved from the hand back to his face and all she saw was one thing. One thing he didn't have the capability to hide right now. _Complete adoration_.

Fascinated, she touched his face lightly, running down before holding his cheek in her palm. He closed his eyes, pushing gently into the softness of her hand.

"Gillian…?"

"No."

Cal stopped, bemused. "Howw do youu know wha I'mm goin' to say?"

"If you're going to tell me to desert you again or if you're starting to say goodbye, you can just save it."

"Actualllyy, I wasnn't gonna say that darlinnn'. I've givennn up. You'rre too stubbornnn to come to yourrr sensesss."

"Excuse me?" She flicked an eyebrow at him and he couldn't help but smile. Even exhausted and ragged around the edges, she was so lovely.

"I jussst wasss gonna say…" He could feel himself backpedaling as he pulled his punch. _Damn him_. Why couldn't he just say it? Probably because she wouldn't accept it as truth right now. Maybe. "I…um…I cann't telll you how much youu mean to mee." _Lightman, you're such a coward._ It was probable that Bainbridge would arrive any moment and happily snuff them out and here he was afraid to tell her he loved her. Inwardly he smacked himself aside the head, while outwardly he gave her a sincere smile.

"You can stop right there because that sounds a little like a goodbye."

"Doess nottt."

"Does too."

Frustrated, Cal decided against words. The hand that had been lightly rubbing her arm curled around it and suddenly pulled her closer to him.

_**(BREAK)**_

Bainbridge descended the stairs as the same ominous feeling bloomed within him.

Berkely hadn't answered his phone. He _always _answered his phone. If the man were in the bathroom taking a leak he'd answer the phone with one hand while holding his dick with the other. He was _that _anal. On an off shot, he'd also tried to call Gregory but he hadn't picked up either. He was less anal, so Bainbridge didn't question that quite as much although it looked bad, considering.

Theoretically, Taylor was babysitting Finn but alas, he hadn't answered his damned phone _either_. So now he just had to make sure the boy was still in the house. If he was, well, that would imply that Finnley Senior needed to have a little bit more faith. Of course faith was something he _never_ had in his son. Over two decades of established behavior gave him good reason.

The boy hadn't been in his room, so unless he was outside, he'd probably be in the den at the back of the house. He always liked the TV…and the bar.

Despite his age, the old man moved quickly, fueled more by fear than anything else. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep it up. His bad knee and compromised liver could only take so much.

As soon as he stepped through the doorway, his face crumpled into itself. _No, no, no_. He _couldn't_ have. But as he stared at his chauffer lying on the Oriental rug snoring wetly he knew that his worst fears were being realized.

It was time to come to a decision, but he wasn't sure if he was strong enough.

_**(BREAK)**_

He thought about answering the phone, he really did, but Greg was convinced that it was a damned if he did, damned if he didn't kind of situation. It was best if he didn't talk to him.

Besides, he couldn't worry about the old man right now. He'd come to a decision and was currently so scared that he couldn't even pee straight. Good thing he didn't have a girlfriend or wife to bitch about it.

Breathing deeply, he packed the duffel with shaking hands.

Hopefully, he wouldn't be too late.

_**(BREAK)**_

"Hi Berk. How are things" Finn was all smooth smiles when the big man pulled the door open for him.

"To be honest, I've been better."

"Yeah, I can get behind that. But I have to tell you…" He moved inside, glancing around and dumped his knapsack on the table. "All that money buys lots of wonderful things, including a hell of a lot of freedom."

Nodding, Berkley gave a noncommittal grunt.

"How are our guests?" The smile broadened, becoming wolfish.

"Lightman hasn't had a dose since this morning but it was a hefty one. He should still be a little groggy." It was said with clinical detachment. Berk wanted to pull himself as far away as he possibly could. "The woman hasn't given us any problems." _Other than the occasional tongue-lashing._ He kept that to himself. It would be in Dr. Foster's best interest.

"Well gosh, that's just perfect then. Want Dr. Lightman to be awake for all the fun." Finn winked dramatically and Berk just felt sick.

"I already told you I wasn't going to hang around."

"Yeah, yeah. I understand. It's kind of funny that a man who's dissected corpses, not to mention, cut open the living is squeamish." He opened his knapsack and peeked inside at his tools. "Before you take off, I _do_ want you to help me secure that bastard. Drugged or not, I would count on him being a pain in the ass."

Berk only grimly nodded again.

"After all, he needs to have a front row seat before he becomes part of the action." Finn giggled. It was surprisingly high, like a prepubescent boy and the other man cringed ever so slightly. "Well, shall we get the party started?"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Sorry for the short chapter but I guess we're heading into the home stretch. How's it going for y'all?<em>**


	9. Chapter 9

He brought her within inches as his eyes thoroughly searched hers. She could have pulled away. He didn't really have the strength to hold onto her. But she allowed the movement, looking a little startled and a lot afraid. Maybe he _could_ use words. At this moment in time, she might appreciate it.

"Gillian, I jusstt wanted to sayyy that I…" He took a quick breath but continued to keep his eyes glued to her face. "…I lovvve youu and I…always have." His voice was like caress.

They both heard the heavy footsteps at the same time. More than one person was coming up the stairs. Not much time.

Her heart clenched at his admission, tears filling her eyes. But she kept them from falling. All she could do was nod several times before her voice found a tiny bit of strength. "Love you too." With that she leaned the rest of the way in and touched her lips to his. The kiss was short and desperate and as their eyes opened, they met and held, both painfully but mutely acknowledging that it might be their last. He touched her face, and she quickly covered his hand with hers.

The footsteps stopped outside the door and they could now hear the murmur of two voices, one familiar baritone, the other familiar as well but it didn't rumble with gravel. It was much worse. Honey dipped with an underlying poison.

Pulling away, her one hand remained clasped around his and she palmed the knife with her other. Her dress was a little less form fitting then some of her others so she could hold it flush against her leg without looking too obvious.

A key rattled in the lock before the door swung inward.

Gillian's hand went rigid in his and Cal gave it a squeeze. He did his best to wipe his expression clean and from the corner of his eye, he saw Gill do the same. Best not to give the little freak any extra ammo.

"Well! Isn't this a surprise?" Finn's smile was huge and oddly sincere.

They both stared blankly at him but Cal could feel a tremor run through Gill.

"Shocckking."

"Wow Lightman. You sound buzzed. Was it good for you?"

"Soddd offff." Her hand tightened in his although he honestly didn't think antagonizing the bastard mattered one way or another.

The larger man stood behind Finn. _Without his mask._ He was in his mid-thirties, well over six feet tall, with light brown hair that curled behind his ears in evident need of a trim and light blue eyes. His face attempted detachment but Gillian could see the inner struggle. As a result, she tried to keep her eyes on his but only after a moment, they flicked away in guilt. He held a straight back chair under one arm.

Finn's smile faltered ever so slightly. "Your manners leave something to be desired sir."

"Anndd yourrr hobbiesss leavvee somethin' to be desireddd." Cal's voice throbbed with anger. "Whyyy donn'tt youu be a reall mann and let Fosterrr go andd takke me downnn on your ownnn. I'mm nott upp to fighting youu. It'dd be ann eassyy winn."

Finn still held his bag. He set it on the bureau as he looked at Cal. "Don't think so."

"Whyy? You'rre jus proving howww spineless youu arrre."

The younger man whirled, suddenly inches away from Cal. Gillian startled while Cal stared, narrowing his eyes. "No. Because keeping her here hurts _you_. You're going to see _her_ suffer before it's your turn. This is payback, you son of a bitch. And just so you know…" he leaned slightly closer, voice taunting. "I _really_ plan on enjoying myself."

It wasn't expected, that was evident. The expression on Finn's face said it all. Cal swung his legs over the side of the bed and quickly lashed out. There wasn't as much power behind it as there normally would be but it was all in the placement. His fist connected with the other man's throat, sending him stumbling back a few steps as he gagged and wheezed.

"Basstarrd." He wanted to get up and follow the younger man, wanted to kick the living shit out of him but when he attempted to push himself up, a wave of dizziness brought him back down.

Berkley watched with interest and more than a little admiration, making no attempt to help Finn, knowing that it wouldn't be appreciated anyway. He still stood in the doorway, barring the path if the woman decided to make a run for it. He expected she wouldn't leave Lightman but he stayed put, just in case.

Cal felt Gill's fingers curl around his arm as she moved closer. His head spun but the hit had definitely been worth it. He had no intention of going out without a fight.

Now a safe distance away, Finn straightened, still gasping and face red. His eyes had teared up slightly and he brushed at them forcefully. "Brilliant Lightman. You know just the things to do to make it worse for yourself."

"Likkewisee." It was a growl erupting from deep within Cal's chest.

It was almost like a dance. Finn moved away to come up on the other side. Cal moved his head to track him but the room tilted slightly and before he realized it, Gillian gave a gasp.

"Hello Dr. Foster. Long time, no see." He'd pulled her up and gave a nod to Berk who moved forward, setting the chair at the foot of the bed.

The big man cautiously approached Cal, who stared up at him, warning all over his face. "I don't want to hurt you sir."  
>"Thenn kickkk his arse and lett us go."<p>

"Be good for him or Dr. Foster here might have a premature painful accident." The words were almost lost in a giggle. "You'll have a great seat after all. Front row."

The man was right behind her, one hand on her throat, the other having settled on her waist, becoming intentionally familiar. She had to fight a shudder, knowing that he'd only be excited by it. The knife was still gripped tightly in her fist. She knew that it could easily be slid open by one thumb but she was terrified. Terrified of acting too soon. Terrified that the ramifications would prove to be fatal regardless.

Cal sagged slightly before he looked over his shoulder, catching fear on Gillian's face. Seeing the smugness on Finn's. _Shit. Now what?_ _He plays nice, she gets hurt. He plays not so nice, she gets hurt sooner._

He surmised playing nice might buy a couple more minutes but for what? There was no way Gillian could overtake both men with a bloody pocketknife. One, maybe, by virtue of surprise but certainly not both. Of course if she could just take out Finn, the other might call it a day. Key word being _might_.

"Finnne. Do wha youu neeed to do to mee. Jusst don'tt hurt herrr." He knew the plea would fall on deaf ears regardless.

_**(BREAK)**_

Greg would only need a couple of minutes to assemble the gun. He could even do it in complete darkness if he needed to, but that didn't keep him from being afraid. He'd seen combat, seen friends lose the lives right in front of him but this whole Finn thing was entirely different. In combat, it's pretty cut and dried. They're fighting for a cause and so are you. It's just a question of who had the best hiding place and the quicker trigger but Finn wasn't fighting for anything. He was the proverbial loose cannon that _no one_ wanted on their side. Unpredictable, calculating, sadistic…just evil. That's what you saw when you looked in that guy's eyes. He was reminded of Donald Pleasance warning everyone that 'the evil had escaped' in the movie Halloween. He hadn't even referred to Michael Myers as a person. That's kind of how Greg felt about Finn. Especially the devil's eyes part.

The exit off the freeway was coming up. At the moment two thoughts floated around in his head: _I wonder if I'm too late and I think I'm going to piss myself._

_**(BREAK)**_

Finnley senior took another sip of his Brandy. It was smooth, very expensive and the only kind he bought. Certain things he didn't cut corners on. Of course a lot of people would think he didn't cut corners on anything. Not true. Definitely not true. He cut corners on his son. He should have put him away years ago but what did he do? Protect him. Love him. Hope that it would all work out in the end.

What a foolish old man he was. If Finn were a dog, he would have been euthanized.

The phone was sticky with perspiration, he'd been gripping it so tightly.

As he looked at it, it grew oddly blurry. He hadn't even realized he was crying. When the hell did that happen? Finnley Bainbridge Senior _didn't_ _cry_.

His thumb hovered over the number pad.

It would be for the best.

Sometimes a parent had to learn to let go. Even if it meant allowing the child to seal his own bleak fate.


	10. Chapter 10

_**I wanted to thank you all for your wonderful reviews, comments and clicking on that little 'favorite' button. Really makes my day!**_

* * *

><p>Berk stepped forward and pulled Cal to his feet, tightening his grip when the other man faltered.<p>

"Youu realllly want to do thisss mate?" Cal looked over to catch his eye but Berk wouldn't allow it. His face remained stony but there was a definite struggle going on underneath. If he weren't doped he knew he'd be able to see so much more.

"Don't bother Dr. Lightman. Berkley and I are buds. Practically grew up together. Right man?" Finn smiled tauntingly.

The big man didn't respond which made Finn smile even wider.

"I knoww youu havve a problemm with this." Cal's voice was low. "Youu cann put a sstopp to it."

He was pushed down into the wooden chair, his arms wrestled behind him. The zip tie was pulled tightly, instantly biting into his flesh.

Up to this point he'd foolishly expected to somehow get Gillian and himself out of this. Maybe the drugs were finally starting to clear his system because his rational mind was beginning to see the slim likelihood of escape. Fear sank into his bones even as he tried to hide it. There would be no_ deus ex machina_ to save the day. They were going to die at the hands of this psychopath and what was even worse, he would probably get away with it. He thought about Emily, pictured her sweet face, holding her for the first time and the pain was crippling. His stomach clenched and rippled violently as sweat beaded on his forehead. Something acrid arose at the back of this throat and he thought he might throw up. Self-loathing immediately followed, knowing that he couldn't currently hide his suffering and that Finn was relishing it.

Gillian made a tiny noise and Cal looked up to see all her fear but also the compassion she held for him as she watched every expression, micro and otherwise cross his face. It only made him feel worse. Because of _his_ arrogance, Gillian and he were going to die.

"I'm going now." Berkley looked at Finn. It wasn't a request but a clear statement. He didn't want to be around for Finn's games.

Cal and Gillian shared a quick glance. _He was leaving?_

"Hold on. Can you take this for just a second?" He intimated Gillian.

With a sigh, the big man crossed the room, taking her arm, his grip firm. She looked up at him, eyes wide. "Please." She watched as the one word chipped the man's resolve but for only a moment.

"I'm sorry." And he really _did _sound sorry. It was insane.

"Thanks man." Finn smirked before walking back to Cal so casually that the sudden lash with his right fist startled all of them.

"No!" Gillian's voice was almost a sob.

"There. Think I owed you one doc."

Cal blinked away the white flashes as his left eye and head throbbed painfully. After a moment, he brought his eyes back up. Something clicked inside. The fear was still there but it was being crowded by fury. _Much better. _He'd rather be angry.

Finn stepped toward the bureau to rummage in his bag. "Okay Berk. I'll catch up with you later."

Gillian felt, rather than heard the sigh as his grip on her eased and released. He moved toward the door and she moved closer to Cal. One hand fell to his shoulder and when he met her gaze she only saw one thing: _gut him like a fish_. _Do what you have to do to take out that son of a bitch._

Her imagination was filling in the words for him but his expression gave clear indication of what he wanted her to do. _If she only could_. As it was, she couldn't stop trembling, her breath was coming in short gasps and tears kept rimming her eyes.

Cal continued to watch her, intensity in his gaze. She saw him silently form words with his lips. _You can do this._

He apparently had a lot more confidence in her than she did at the moment but Gillian gripped the pocketknife a little more tightly, trying to quiet her breathing. Looking closely at Cal again, she could see where his eye was starting to swell shut and at that moment, she began to feel the burn of her own anger as it attempted to push back the fear.

Berkley had stepped into the hallway when Finn called out again. His hand was on the knob as he prepared to pull the door shut behind him.

"One more thing Berk?"

The big man turned back, eyebrows rising in annoyance.

Finn faced him, his expression amiable before shooting him in the chest.

Gillian jumped and Cal flinched as the sharp crack broke the stillness of the house and the woods.

"Sorry man. Nothing personal. Just business."

Berkley barely had time to react. There was a subtle pulling down at the corners of his mouth before he stumbled backward. Small caliber usually meant no exit wound and less outward mess as the bullet ricocheted inside and pulverized the man's heart.

He hit the far wall, turned, before sliding down and was still. His eyes remained open as the last light left.

"Oh my God." Gillian sat on the foot of the bed facing Cal. His face was unsurprised and still full of anger while hers had gone two shades whiter.

"He doesn't really have the belly for this kind of stuff. Kind of weak that way I guess." Finn pulled the door shut with one hand, loosely holding to small pistol with the other.

"Thought gunnss weren'tt yourr style."

"You're right, they're not. Too impersonal. But they do have their uses. Surely you noticed how big that guy _is_, um, _was_. He could have twisted my head right off."

"Too badd he didnn't." The contempt had woven tightly into Cal's slurred speech.

"Yeah. Too bad for you." He moved to the side toward his bag, careful to keep an eye on Gillian. "Now… do you want to see my _tools_?" Finn beamed like a kid on Christmas morning as he reached into the knapsack.

_**(BREAK)**_

Gregory guided his old Suburu onto the half-mile of gravel road leading to the cabin. His bowels had long since turned to ice, but he'd accepted it along with thoughts of what might happen to him tonight. Except for the ice cube quality of his lower intestines, he felt a lot calmer.

It was possible, hell, probable, that he was going to lose his life tonight but looking back and looking forward, it might be for the best. Not that he wanted to die. _Hell_ no. But he didn't exactly contribute much to anything other than being good with weapons and being someone else's hired goon. He wasn't particularly smart but he wasn't a complete dumbass either. Besides, if he were going to be _totally_ honest with himself (which was actually pretty damned rare), it all came down to _her_. Sure, he was sorry about Lightman but it was Dr. Foster's face that kept floating behind his eyes whether they were open or closed. The thought of her at the mercy of Finn had been steady wash of acid against his insides and he just couldn't tolerate it any longer. Not that he ever would think that he'd have a chance with a woman like that (even if she wasn't already in love with someone else). She was like a fine painting to admire from behind velour ropes, beautiful to behold but no touching. He supposed he just didn't want that sick bastard to fuck with the art.

He pulled the car into a small clearing at the side of the gravel road, not wanting to alert Finn and Berk by blatantly pulling up in front of the cabin. From here, it was time to hike.

Quickly jumping out, he rounded to the back of the Suburu to get his weapons. He put the rifle together in just under a minute and stuffed his 9 mm in the front of his pants. Slamming the trunk shut, he headed through the trees.

_**(BREAK)**_

Finnley Senior pulled Ben Reynolds card from his wallet, hesitated for only a moment before pushing his lips together in a resigned determination. Shaking, his fingers almost hit the wrong number several times before he finally placed the call.

The FBI agent answered on the third ring. "Reynolds." The voice was curt but still held its professional edge.

"This in Finnley Bainbridge Senior and I have some information that…"he stopped, his throat closing briefly.

"Sir?" Ben frowned but his heart started to accelerate. "What kind of information?"

"About Lightman and his partner." His normally confident voice had shrunken to almost a whimper.

"Do you know where they are?" Reynolds started to rise from his desk.

Bainbridge took a breath, the ache inside beginning to fester, knowing that it wasn't just his son that would be taking a fall tonight. "Yes sir, I do. I'm hoping it's not too late."

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><p><strong><em>So, anyone tense? ;-)<em>**


	11. Chapter 11

Gillian didn't want to look at the objects Finn was pulling out of his bag. She'd already seen the photos of his victims and that should have been enough for her to keep her eyes away but they pulled toward him as if magnetized. She immediately wished that she'd resisted. Terror seemed to split her in half but she feebly tried to hold on to the anger even as it paled in comparison.

She finally turned away to find that Cal wasn't looking at the man. He was looking at her, face serious, silently encouraging. _You're a strong woman Gill. You're not like his other victims_. _He won't be expecting a fight. Take advantage of it._

Two more tools came out of the knapsack. An ice pick and needle nose pliers.

Her gorge started to rise but Cal gave a tiny headshake. _No. Don't give him a chance. _She concentrated on his face, drawing more strength where she could.

"Well, I probably don't have to go into any lengthy expression." Finn smiled benignly. "You know the drill."

"Yeahh, we knowww that you'rre one sickkk fuck who goes afterrr the weakkk."

"Some people might look upon it as thinning the heard."

"Orrr tryin' to compensate forr nott bein' able to get it upp when it commes to womennn."

Wide eyed, Gill laid a hand on his leg, knowing what he was doing. Knowing that he was trying to bring Finn's wrath onto himself.

The blood had run from the man's face as Cal apparently hit his mark. Fury radiated across him as he glared at the older man and took one step closer. He stopped and took a breath. "I know what you're trying to do."

"Annnd whas that? What coulldd _I _possibly be doin'? I'm tiedd to a fuckin' chairrr, loaded on God knowwws whattt and you're the one holdin' all the carrrds." Cal continued to blaze at him, unheeding of the pressure of Gillian's hand. "The wayyy I seee it is I donnne have a lott to lose. I cannn go aheaddd and telll you what a pathetic excussse for a mann you arrre…a beautifulll woman, nada…a womannn with blood, that's whattt does it forr youu. Thatt's wha gets yourrr motor runnin'."

"Shut up Lightman."

"…howww you torture and cuttt up womennn 'cause youurr pissed offff that youu can't havve one. Howww they'lll laugh 'cause of…"

Finn stepped closer, the pistol now rising and pushing into Cal's temple. "I told you to shut up."

"Orrr you'lll whatt? Killll mee? Isn't thattt the plann anywayy?" He attempted not to flinch as the barrel pushed harder against him and avoided looking at Gillian.

"How about if I shoot you and then take my time with your pretty partner?"

"I guesss youuu will have faileddd thennn."

"What the hell are you talking about?" The man was becoming increasingly agitated.

"Wasnn't the plann to make _me_ sufferr? Youu kill me quickllyy and I'mm off the hoook. So thattt would juss be another fuck upp of yourrrs. No wonderrr your olldd man is ashamed of youu."

Finn's lips had disappeared into a thin line as his face whitened even more. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Youu and I both know that that's nottt trrrue."

The two men didn't break eye contact for several long moments.

Finally the gun lowered. "You know something Lightman? I'm thinking that you'd be a lot less talkative with your tongue cut out."

Cal kept his reaction in his gut where it immediately felt like it started to eat him alive. He continued to glare but he knew it was beginning to falter.

Gillian blanched as a noise of horror escaped the back of her throat. Finn gave her a tiny smile from below dark and stormy eyes.

_**(BREAK)**_

Gregory watched the cabin for a few moments before approaching. Two vehicles were parked in front. Berk's Blazer and Finn's BMW. That was good. Since Berk was still there, there might still be time. The fragment of phone conversation drifted back to him. _"…I'll come back to help with clean up but I'm not going to stick around…"_ He hadn't wanted anything to do with Finn's sick games.

Keeping low, he ran across the weed filled lawn before flattening against the side of the building. Scooting close to the kitchen window, he craned his neck to surreptitiously peek inside. From what he could tell, there was no one in either front room.

Taking another breath, he moved forward, turned the corner and eased onto the front porch, stepping carefully in an attempt to avoid the creaking of the aging wood. The screen door was unlocked and Greg let himself inside.

_**(BREAK)**_

Finn's teeth shown like shark's teeth as he stepped back to the bureau, examining several of his knives that he'd pulled from his bag before deciding on one.

Cal's mind shifted as it suddenly began to gibber at him with nonsense. So much for rage stamping out his fear. The bastard was going to _cut out_ his tongue. _Felix the Cat with his bag of tricks… _oh fuck_…Felix the Cat, the wonderful wonderful cat. Whenever he gets into a fix, he reaches into his bag of trix…_oh fuck…His head started to sink against his chest before he realized that he couldn't keep an eye on Finn. An eye. That's all he had. The other was swollen shut. He almost giggled. Oh fuck. _Cut out his tongue_.

"Please! Leave him alone already! Haven't you done enough?" Gillian's voice was trembling but still held a surprising amount of strength. She stood up and stepped in front of Cal.

Amusement flickered across the younger man's face. "Sweet. Attempting to defend your man." He held the scalpel up. "I can respect that. But I have to tell you that it doesn't change anything. Now, this is what we're going to do: I need you to go sit on the far side of the bed."

Gillian didn't move.

"Alright. Let me be more specific. If you don't go sit, I'll just cut his throat and you won't have anything left to protect."

"Gillll, gooo. Stayy awayyy from 'im." He shook his head and grimaced. Needed to keep his faculties. Almost lost them for a few seconds there.

"Ah. Sound advice from the good Dr. Lightman. At least for the moment."

Cal snapped back to himself and caught her eye. _Almost time. His guard's going to go down. You'll have your chance._

Her eyes began to fill. "Please."

"GO SIT NOW!" The sudden scream had her flinching as if Finn had raised his hand to her. And it excited him. She could see it all over him. Power. Becoming overconfident.

She sat hesitantly on the edge, eyes wide.

"Thank you." He stepped up to Cal. "Now, let's take out that pesky thing."

Cal dropped his head, twisting his body as far away as he could as Finn's left hand attempted to grab hold of him. He threw himself and the chair sideways, crashing to the floor, landing hard on his shoulder, letting out a grunt of pain. The other man was almost pulled down as one hand found purchase in the front of his shirt. Finn stumbled forward before letting go and catching his balance. He looked down at Cal with disdain.

"That's less convenient." He tried to lean over before Cal lashed out with his boots, eliciting a sharp yelp as he connected with one shin. "Son of a bitch." Finn sprayed spittle as he rounded behind. "Maybe I'll cut off your fucking nose too while I'm at it." He suddenly dropped into a crouch, fisting one hand in Cal's hair, jerking his head back. "I'm going to really enjoy this." One knee pushed into the side of his head as he reached around to squeeze into the jawbone, forcing the man's mouth open, scalpel at ready.

_**(BREAK)**_

Gregory crept up the stairs, careful to stay flush against the banister to avoid creaking wood. Finn's sudden scream had startled him but he managed to keep his cool and not panic.

When he reached the top of the staircase, he did start to panic.

Berkley.

Slumped over and dead.

_Oh shit._

He swallowed it back. He shouldn't have been surprised. Finn wasn't close to anyone. If the need arose, he'd probably kill his own father. This only told him that he needed to move his ass a little faster. He kept the rifle up and ready.

Somewhere he thought he heard the sound of sirens.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Am I torturing you? <strong>_


	12. Chapter 12

The little bastard would _not_ hold still. Maybe he should just wing him. He'd stuck the pistol at the small of his back and he could feel it pressing into his spine. That might help. _Nah, not as much fun._

Finn leaned his knee harder onto the side of Lightman's head, lips pulled back from bared teeth as a low growl crept past. He could just slice his cheeks to get at that forked tongue inside. Turn him into the Joker. The growl turned into a chuckle.

"You sir, are only making it worse for yourself."

"Sodd offff."

The scalpel sliced just under Cal's right eye. Finn smiled as Cal winced. "You're going to wish you died quick." He sounded very matter of fact.

He moved the knife low on the other man's unshaven cheek. "Some redecoration might be in order. What do you think?"

"Fuckkk youu."

"Ah, don't be like that. That's not very nice."

Cal tried to move his head away but the knee was crushing him painfully against the wooden floor. His hands twisted against the plastic bond but he could only feel the sting and moisture as his efforts made his wrists bleed even more. With his legs he attempted to push back but the man's weight immobilized him, keeping him down, keeping him helpless. From his periphery he could see the scalpel moving toward his face again, the metal catching the light and glimmering within. There was nothing more he could do so he closed his eyes and tightened his jaw.

Finn heard an odd sound. Almost as if someone were cutting into a watermelon. _What the fuck was that?_ Something was most definitely not right. He felt the gun yanked from the top of his slacks. _Shit_. _That shouldn't have happened_. A solid ache began to radiate from between his shoulder blades. Forgetting Lightman, he pushed himself up and shifted around unsteadily.

The woman stood close, backing away as he stared. Her eyes were wide with fear but there was something else. He couldn't tell exactly what it was. It just seemed as if she knew something that he didn't know. She also held his little Beretta. _Wait._ This wasn't _right_. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She should be cowering in a corner like the others.

The ache was getting worse. One hand snaked behind him to rub the spot with his fingers. What he found shocked him. He couldn't quite maneuver to pull it out but there was a smooth handled knife sticking out of his back. _Where the hell did that come from?_ As the realization hit him, so did the agony and the blinding rage.

"You bitch!" The scalpel still in his hand, he took a faltering step toward her. "You fucking stabbed me!"

"At this point I don't really think I'd have a problem shooting you either." Gill's voice shook slightly but it was obvious that she meant what she said.

Cal slowly lifted his head and blinked at the scene that lay before him. Everything was blurry in the one eye and he couldn't see out of the other at all. But he could hear her. _That's my girl. _He just wished that she would just shoot the son of a bitch already but he wasn't completely sure if she could. His head tilted back down against the floor.

_How the hell was he even standing? Did the knife just imbed in muscle? _Gillian held the gun tightly but it wavered and Finn smiled. She had the surreal feeling that she was stuck in some kind of horror movie.

"You don't seem to be the killing type Dr. Foster." The pain was bad. He could feel things seemingly breaking apart and dissolving inside. That couldn't be a good thing. He didn't want her to know it though.

"Drop the knife."

He looked down at the scalpel in surprise. He'd forgotten he was holding it. "But that would leave me unarmed." It seemed like a reasonable response.

_**(BREAK) **_

Reaching slowly for the knob, Greg turned it, happy that it wasn't locked, unhappy that he had placed himself in this situation to begin with.

Pushing the door forward, he kept his body out of the line of fire but managed a quick glance within.

Dr. Foster's back was to him, while Finn stood several feet in front of her. Lightman was trussed to an overturned chair and was still. Greg wondered briefly if was still alive.

"GREGORY!" Finn's voice was loud and the woman jumped. She swung around and he saw the pistol in her hands before she backed against the wall, attempting to point it at both of them. Panic and horror washed over her face.

"You're just in time!" Finn was smiling, obviously relieved.

Gillian could feel her breath start to rasp again. She had thought it was almost over. She had thought that maybe they'd be able to get away and now…there was no point. Allowing herself to slide down the wall, she continued to hold onto the gun regardless. She might be able to take one of them out at least, maybe. The newcomer was holding some kind of military rifle and he also had a gun tucked against his belly. Another of Finn's accomplices. She pushed down the wail that threatened to break free, not wanting to give them the satisfaction.

"Was _Berk_ just in time?"

The smile slipped a little and for the first time, Greg noticed his white pallor. "He was going to betray me man."

"I doubt that."

"Cuttt himm downnn in collld blood." It was Lightman, sounding awful but Greg was glad to know that he was alive.

Greg sighed. "I would have expected as much."

Gillian tilted her head toward the man in the doorway. His voice. It was the same gravelly one from before. The one that had been laced with guilt.

"You help me and I'll make it _so_ worth your while." Finn nodded as if Greg had already agreed.

"That's not why I here."

"What are you talking about? Of course that's why you're here." He appeared affronted that there could be another reason.

As Greg watched, the man went down to his knees. He finally saw the reason for his pale countenance. His own pearl handled knife was sticking out from the middle of his back. _I'll be damned. She used it._ He looked at Dr. Foster and she just stared back. "And here I thought you guys might need my help."

"What the hell are you doing?" Finn glared, voice rising in panic. "I'M YOUR BOSS. YOU DO AS I SAY!"

The sirens were getting closer. Greg had thought he heard them earlier but wasn't sure if he hadn't maybe imagined it. "I think it's going to be all done real soon _boss_."

"You're going to go down too you stupid prick!"

"Probably." Greg glanced at Gill. "Watch him please."

He crossed to Lightman, leaned his rifle against the wall within easy reach and pulled another knife from his pocket. This one was older, with a dark stained wooden handle but no less sharp. "I'm going to gut the plastic tie off your wrists."

Lightman grunted what might have been an acknowledgement or a thanks. Greg wasn't sure.

"Don't do that!" Finn had shifted slightly before sitting hard down on his butt. He knew he was bad. He was cold and the feeling seemed to be leaving his extremities but the loss of control was worse. So much worse. He was Finnley Bainbridge Junior. _This wasn't supposed to happen. It couldn't happen._

The knife easily slid through the binding and Greg tossed it aside. Without asking, he hooked his arms under Lightman's and hauled him to his feet. A groan of pain rattled through the man's lips as his knees started to buckle. Greg held on and managed to maneuver him to the edge of the bed.

"Thanks mate." It was only a whisper. "But you best be off, yeah?"

"What?" Finn's voice was getting weaker. "He can't go. That's not fair."

Greg looked between Lightman and Dr. Foster. She gave a tiny nod. "Thank you."

He gave her a long look and Gillian almost had the unsettling impression that he was memorizing her. Before she had time to think about it too much, he'd turned and gone.

The sirens were very loud now.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Had to rework this chapter a bit. Hopefully it didn't disappoint. Thanks for reading.<em>**


	13. Chapter 13

**_Thank you so much for the positive feedback. Glad everyone seems to be enjoying it!_**

* * *

><p>Gillian shakily pushed herself to her feet, still keeping the gun pointed at Finn.<p>

Of course he wasn't going to be doing much of anything now. He looked up at her before slumping down on his side. A steadily growing pool of blood surrounded him and he was breathing hard, face ashen.

She carefully stepped around him nonetheless, not trusting that he wouldn't suddenly make a grab for her. She'd probably been dragged to too many horror films but the feeling persisted.

Cal was still sitting on the edge of the bed, hands bunched in the thin fabric of the spread. His head was down, one eye unfocused.

"Can you stand?" She was tentative, still glancing toward Finn.

He started as if he'd dozed off. "Thinnk soo."

"I want to get out of this room."

The real meaning was clear. _I want to get away from _him.

"'Kay." Cal heaved himself up, stumbled slightly before she caught his arm with her free hand.

"Put you arm around my shoulders."

He did as he was told for a change and they were able to make their way to the door, once again giving Finn wide birth. He looked toward them, eyes glassy.

"You're…leaving…me?" The man seemed incredulous.

Cal frowned and would have loved to give him a kick but physically couldn't. "Authorritieess willl hellp youu outt."

They were in the hall, steering away from the other body before facing the stairs.

"Thisss is gonna bee funn." He looked a little dubious.

"Just hang onto the railing." Her teeth were clenched again. All she wanted was to get the hell out of there.

They made their way down slowly and without mishap. She was happy to note that he didn't seem to be leaning on her as heavily, which was a relief in a variety of ways. At the bottom, he abruptly sat on the bottom step with a sharp inhale.

"Cal?"

"S'okay. Besst they comme in to usss. Gunn should go on floorrr.'  
>She'd almost forgotten about it. Sitting down next to him, she gingerly placed the weapon at her feet.<p>

At that moment she started shaking so hard she felt as if she were coming to pieces. It was sudden and explosive. The harsh gasping sobs quickly followed and she seemed to be having a hard time catching her breath.

Cal's arm went around her and pulled her close. She heard him whisper into her hair. "Shhhh…alrighttt luvv, it's ovverr. Youu did good." His other arm went around her as she pressed her face into his chest.

The whole front of the house was alight in a wash of red and blue. They could hear the sound of tires on gravel, shouts of instructions and the slamming of doors.

"Calvary's herree luvv."

Several moments later, Ben entered, wearing a flak vest, gun drawn, state police right behind him. He noted them at the bottom of the staircase after just a moment and shock rippled through his face.

"Holy shit."

A battered and pale Lightman sat with his arms around a hysterical Foster. Cal looked up and attempted a smirk. "Niccee of youu to commme byy." His one eye closed for a moment before popping back open. He looked ready to drop over but the next quiet word managed to reach Ben's ears. "Uppsttairrs."

Ben jerked his head and the floodgate opened as cops and paramedics surged inside.

"Alll thisss for uss? Shoulddd we bee flatterrredd?" Despite his flippancy, the relief was profound. Gill was okay. They were both, more or less, okay.

"You two are a sight for sore eyes, I have to say that."

"Howww didd youu…?"

"Old man called. Confessed everything and sent us this way."

"Realllyy? Attackk of conscience yeahhh?"

"Yeah, so it would seem. A couple of boys in blue are heading over his way as we speak." Ben threw a glance over his shoulder before moving past them and heading up the stairs.

Two EMTs were shouldering their way forward, immediately asking questions, taking vitals and pulling out penlights. The first man frowned at Cal's one dilated pupil since the other eye was still swollen shut. "Are you on something sir?"

_Are you fucking kidding me? _Cal almost bared his teeth at the man.

He began to open his mouth in hazy retort but Gillian answered, her voice shaking but regaining control. "He's been heavily drugged. Some kind of barbiturate I'd presume. We don't know what kind."

"I see." Strong hands had him on his feet when he immediate swayed. "Let's get you on the gurney."

"Noo, noo, I cann walk. I'mm finnee."

"I can see that."

"Juss gimme a seconndd."

The second paramedic was checking over Gillian, apparently satisfied that she was unharmed. She was also helped to her feet and immediately felt compelled to loop an arm around Cal's waist.

"I'll help him." His own arm had settled back around her shoulders.

The man opened his mouth to protest but they were already heading outside as more uniforms rushed past and up the stairs.

_**(BREAK) **_

Upon arrival at the hospital, Cal had been whisked away, much to his annoyance and Gillian had been left on her own. The EMTs had already determined that she was unhurt but the hospital staff had insisted on another once over before giving her the green light to go. She knew that the police were going to have an avalanche of questions but Ben had pulled some strings to give her some peace, at least for tonight. Tomorrow she would be expected down at the station.

She was absolutely exhausted but she knew that she couldn't go without seeing him first. She couldn't help but wonder how much of their ordeal he was going to remember and the thought had butterflies frolicking in her stomach.

He'd been admitted for observation and now as she approached, her stomach grew worse. It was silly. Jesus, they'd almost been killed but all she could think about was his admission. And what had happened between them. And the feel of the knife in her hand as it easily slid into Finn's back…_Christ_. And Berkley's starting eyes. _Stop it. _Maybe she really did need to go home and get some rest first. Everything was merging into a congealed mess in her head.

But she didn't leave. She couldn't.

Peeking inside the room, she caught a glimpse of a still form curled on its side, hooked to an IV. He appeared to be asleep. Maybe she shouldn't disturb him. Heart hammering, she started to turn away.

"Hey luv."

He sounded reasonably lucid.

"Hey."

"Not goin' on my account are ya?"

"Of course not. I just didn't want to disturb you if were sleeping." She reluctantly stepped into the room, oddly nervous.

"Funny that. I shouldn't be but I'm tired. Just can't sleep."

"That's hospitals for you."

"True." He pushed himself upright, staring at her with his one good eye. The other one seemed to part open a little bit too as the swelling began to go down. "You okay?" His voice was soft.

Gillian stepped closer and his head tilted up to her. "I don't think so."

Cal nodded slowly, seeing the aftermath all over her face. "Sit darlin?"

"I don't know if I can. I'm not even really sure what to do with myself." Her hands were gripped together, knuckles white.

"You're fine now. We both are." His tone was so gentle that she felt like she wanted to cry again. "Please sit with me." He held one hand out to her, still shaking ever so slightly.

She took it, allowing him to pull her down onto the edge of the bed. They sat without speaking for several long moments, hands still clasped together. She could feel his thumb stroking her skin lightly.

"He's still alive." Gillian blurted it out suddenly and with much less finesse than how she'd normally speak. She was too tired and filled with nerves to reveal the information in any other way.

"That's probably good."

Confused, she looked at him but his eyes weren't on her. They were drifting somewhere past her to something she couldn't see. The comment was surprising. She would have presumed that he would feel differently.

"How bad?" He still wasn't looking at her.

"Um…I'm not sure. Last I heard he was in surgery."

His eyes pulled away from the distance and dropped to their entwined hands. Without pretense, he moved them upward and pressed a kiss to her fingers. "Killing someone is a life changing experience luv. That's not something you should be saddled with."

There it was. He didn't give a hang about Finn. It was all about her. The next thought that flitted through her mind added to her mountain of unease. _He sounded like he was speaking from experience._


	14. Chapter 14

Gillian watched as the distant look dropped away and his focus returned to her. "You're exhausted."

"A little tired." She admitted.

"It's late. Maybe you should head home and get some rest." His eyes flitted over her face worriedly.

"I don't know if…" She'd meant to say 'if I can sleep,' but it was more along the lines of not wanting to be alone. The hospital was still a beehive of activity and she found it comforting. If asked at any other time, 'comforting' wasn't ever a word that she would use to describe hospitals but now it seemed to fit.

They were both quiet for a moment, unspoken acknowledgement and understanding thick between them. "I know." He murmured, squeezing her hand.

Did he not remember? After everything they'd gone through, did he not remember the one bright spot? He'd been telling the truth, she'd know that. But his inhibitions had been severely hindered. It was possible that the admission would never have seen the light of day if it hadn't been the heavy influx of drugs in his system.

Cal narrowed his eyes as he observed her. There was a lot going on but most importantly, she seemed to be expecting something from him. And he had no idea exactly what it was.

"How much do you remember?" She didn't look up, gazing down at their entwined hands.

His brow furrowed. The last couple of days were a haze. He remembered being attacked in the stairwell but very little until the gunshot. From there it was, more or less, clear. There was a huge gap in the middle and he felt the stirring of anger once again. They'd stolen time from his life. "Um, not a whole lot. I remember that night at the office, someone grabbing me, seeing the other one go after you…" He faltered for a moment, the image nausea inducing. "Not too much more until Bainbridge killed Berkley. Then it all speeds up."

Gillian nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

"Is there _something_ I _need _to know?" Horror shot through him as he sat straight up, ignoring the slight wave of dizziness. His hand pulled from hers and caught her by the shoulder, turning her to face him, his eyes wide. "They didn't…?"

The look of devastation on his face stabbed right through her as realization hit. "No, no Cal." She shook her head violently, vision blurring.

"You're…okay then?" His eyes continued to follow her intently.

"I'm okay."

_Wow. The grandfather of lies._

Neither said anything.

"Dad? Gillian?" Emily appeared in the doorway and Gillian immediately pulled away and got to her feet. Cal frowned at her, bemused, before turning his attention to his daughter.

"Hey Em'."

She stepped quickly into the room, sat on the bed and threw her arms around him. "I…was…so worried."

Wincing, he quickly hid it. He'd wrenched his shoulder when he'd purposely knocked over the chair in his attempt to keep away from that psychopath's scalpel. It wasn't broken or dislocated but it _was_ bruised, stiff and didn't take kindly to sudden jarring. Cal brought up one hand to cradle the back of Emily's head before kissing her temple. "I know. We're okay though." _More or less._

She pulled back, eyes damp but controlled.

_Very much like Cal_. Gillian observed them for a moment before deciding that it would probably be best if she did leave. She didn't want to be alone but she would make due. Wine. All the lights on. Music. More wine. _He doesn't remember_. She hadn't had time to think about how much it would hurt and now she did. They'd had feelings for years but they'd never been voiced until now. Gillian felt like she'd been the victim of a cruel bait and switch. But it wasn't his fault. What _was_ his fault was his inability to be honest with himself and her. Emotions completely terrified him.

"Gill, are you okay?" Emily was looking at her, questioning, brown eyes filled with concern.

She'd completely zoned as Cal spoke with his daughter and now she snapped back a little startled. "Um, sure. I'm fine."

Cal's eyes were on her. She could almost feel a tangible weight in his gaze. She didn't return his look, having the sudden need to get out of there. "I think I'm going to head home after all. I'll speak with you a little later." With that, she pivoted and walked quickly toward the exit.

"Gillian."

His voice was low but held an edge that made her turn to face him. This time she met his eyes, a tiny bit of hope fluttering.

There was something going on and he couldn't figure it out and it was going to, no doubt, drive him batshit. What else had happened? It would save him some agitation if she would just talk to him but that wasn't going to happen tonight. He let out a sigh. "Night luv."

Disappointment. It flitted quickly but he was pretty sure he didn't imagine it. He watched her take a breath. "Goodnight Cal. Emily."

She turned before he could see her tears.

_**(BREAK)**_

Emily had long since gone home and Cal couldn't sleep. He was overly conscious of every little sound. The slip of a nurse's shoe, the low murmur of a couple of orderlies, the steady beeping of medical equipment in the next room. All he needed was a leaky faucet and his night of insomnia would be complete.

Shifting onto his side, Gillian entered his mind once more. She 'd been scared and overwhelmed but underneath there'd been some relief. Almost like she'd received some kind of validation. And he was pretty damned sure that it didn't involve Ben and the cops. Sure, she was grateful, although if truth were told, a tiny bit earlier would have even better. But that was all over with. He just wanted to figure out where that validation had come from. It was something directly connected to him, he knew that. Had he said something to her during one of his lucid moments? He wished he could remember as frustration began to peak.

Maybe he needed to go to her. Maybe she'd be a little more willing to open up to him if she were on her own turf. She'd _always _been able to talk to him. _What was different about this?_ Had it been because Emily had been here? His instincts told him that it wouldn't have mattered. It was possible that she would just come to him when she was ready but what if she didn't?

_Shit, shit, shit!_ Cal was missing something vital and he wondered what would happen if he never remembered.

The night nurse slipped into his room and he quickly pretended to be asleep.

"I know you're awake Dr. Lightman." She checked the bag of fluids, before adeptly checking his temp and pulse. "This bag will be your last you'll be happy to know."

"That there is a bit of truth. I've probably peed 15 times in the last couple of hours." The remark was dry but he actually kind of liked this nurse. As a result, she'd escaped his typical boorish hospital behavior. "So I'm outta here come mornin'?"

"Well, that's up to the doctor. Best guess would be a big ol' yes but don't quote me." She gave an honest smile. Very cute with big green eyes and auburn hair. "You still need your rest though so I'd suggest you turn off that brain of yours and get some."

"Get some _what _exactly?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Very funny. Go to sleep. Now." She gave a playful glare before turning to leave the room.

"Yes ma'am."

_**(BREAK)**_

Lots of fear permeated the dream. The grim realization of impending death had them both terrified but in the dream world, everything was darkness and shadows, fuzzy and ambiguous, thus making it all the more terrifying. Voices without faces, movement without consent, one young man with dark hair tied back, with even darker eyes. No corneas. His entire eye was black. Dead eyes, yet he moved with the grace of a ballet dancer while something shiny and sharp glinted in the light. Suddenly he was gone and there was warmth but not external warmth. It was internal and so very rich and wonderful. _"…I lovvve youu and I…always have." "Love you too." _The lovely warmth was then gone. She'd been pulled away from him. He was on the floor. It was cold and he ached and the darkness and shadows were moving around him, taunting him. Grinning teeth, black, black eyes. Poison tinged voice. Something sharp glinted within the swirls of fog. It appeared and disappeared at random. He heard crying somewhere in the distance but he couldn't get to her, couldn't move…

Cal awoke suddenly, breathing hard and sweating. Confused, he swept his gaze around in panic before beginning to calm. Hospital. That's right. He was in hospital.

The next realization hit him like train. Holy shit. The expectation, the disappointment, the brief hope. All in her face and eyes. It now made sense.

Be damned if all that shit in his system hadn't pushed him into coming clean with her. _He'd actually admitted that he was in love with her_. He felt his insides rolling in chaos. _No, no, no. How could he have done that to her? He's such a selfish bastard!_ She needed him like a butterfly needs a hand grenade. _Oh fuck._

He swung his legs of the side of the bed and began to remove the IV needle from his hand.


	15. Chapter 15

Gillian let herself in and stood for a moment taking in the familiar view. It should have been warm, inviting, but somehow it seemed colder than before. She knew that wasn't the case though. The chill was emanating from her.

_It had been like cutting into a melon. A solid impact before the sharp blade easily disappeared into the flesh._

A shudder ran through her as nausea rippled her insides. For a moment she was sure she was going to have to make a bathroom dash.

Breathing slowly and carefully, the feeling began to ease slightly. She started to move about her home making sure everything was locked securely while turning on all the lights. The brightness should have been comforting but instead it seemed harsh. She kept them on anyway.

Shower. A long hot shower would help wash away the events of the last twenty-four hours. Steam so she could breath a little easier. No thinking. Need a lot of focus to clear the mind.

Rummaging in her top drawer, she pulled out loose pajama bottoms and a ribbed Henley. The chill inside was spilling onto the outside. She couldn't seem to get warm. Gill headed to the bathroom.

_Blank staring eyes. They'd been light blue. _She wondered if he'd inherited his father's or mother's eyes. Or maybe they'd been recessive.

Stopping, she leaned against the wall, legs trembling.

_He didn't remember._ But why did she feel like such an idiot? It wasn't like she'd drunkenly thrown herself at him. In the face of extreme danger, they'd confessed their feelings. If he hadn't been drugged, would he have said what he said? She wasn't really sure.

Ben had contacted her before she left the hospital. Cal not remembering had been the plan. The old man hadn't wanted him to remember anything. It had been meant to be a set up that involved a prostitute, a fleabag hotel, cocaine and the complete trashing of Cal's reputation. Of course Bainbridge Junior had moved in and attempted to modify the plan. Because of his extreme hatred, it had involved torture and murder. It wasn't like Ben needed to voice that part.

Heart suddenly pounding, Gillian felt her forehead prickle with heat and sweat but strangely enough, she was still cold. She found herself on the carpet, still clutching her pajamas to her chest.

Finn had been so excited when he'd been removing his tools from the knapsack. It was a child-like level of excitement that was completely incongruous with a grown man. He had briefly reminded her of her nephew when he'd received a Labrador puppy for his 10th birthday, except the man's exuberance involved a variety of knives, pliers, fish line and an ice pick. She wondered briefly about the fish line but stopped herself.

Breath. She couldn't. Her lungs wouldn't work to suck the air into her lungs for a moment. When they finally did, it was scalding, painful. She tried again. Each breath was agony.

Closing her eyes, hot tears pushed past her lids and burned down her cheeks.

_**(BREAK)**_

Cal quickly dressed before using the hospital phone to call a cab. He had no idea where his cell went. Probably in that accursed cabin somewhere.

He cautiously slipped out into the hallway before hastily moving toward the bank of elevators.

The night was cool with a threat of rain in the air. He could smell it and hoped that the cab would arrive before the clouds opened up all over him.

As he waited, the wind began to kick up and send a deep chill through the thin fabric of his polo. Didn't he have a jacket on yesterday? He couldn't really remember. No matter. The cab was pulling up.

"Nearest pub." The words came out automatically. He hadn't meant to say them. Maybe it would be better. A bit of liquid courage before he faced Gillian. _Fucking coward._

Maybe he shouldn't even tell her what he remembered. That way things could stay as they were. Close but not _too_ close. Yeah, that would definitely be better.

She had been holding all her emotions behind a disintegrating mask when she'd come to see him earlier. The pain and hope had been colliding with the horror of their experience. She was a strong person. One of the strongest he knew but when is enough, enough? When does it all come crumbling down? Would _he_ be the catalyst?

_Shit._

Cal rolled his head back against the seat and shut his eyes. Fatigue pulled him down, making the edges a little hazy.

_Love you…and I…always have._

How could he just pretend? Of course he'd been doing it for years but now it was different. She loved him too and not in a platonic friend kind of way. It was much deeper than that.

_Shit._

He moved his head forward, only to slam it back against the seat. When fireworks went off behind his left eye and rattled around the bruising of the socket, he immediately regretted the action. Everything was so surreal. All the horror held a fuzzy dream like quality. Of course for Gillian, it had been anything but dream-like. The edges were hard, sharp and steeped in reality. It must have been terrifying.

"Here ya go." The driver looked up at him through the rear view mirror as the car came to a halt. "Closest bar. You have a couple of hours before closing time."

Cal didn't open his eyes or make any move to get out. "Change of plans, mate."

_**(BREAK) **_

The temperature had dropped again when the cab left him off.

Hugging himself for warmth, he stared at Gillian's house. It appeared as if every single light in the place was on. Definitely not like her. She was a stickler for energy conservation.

Shivering, he strode up the path and hit the doorbell.

Nothing.

He did it again and followed up with a quick rap with his knuckles.

Still nothing.

She could be sleeping. It was, after all, past midnight but his instincts said no.

_Fuck._ He didn't have her key. Emily had brought him his spare house keys but they didn't include Gillian's.

Starting to panic, he stepped back to think. She kept an emergency key…somewhere. His eyes swept the front patio before scanning the foliage growing against the house. _Wait a minute. _ He squatted near one of the bushes and reached for the 'rock' hiding underneath. One of those hollow plastic jobs. He let out a sigh of relief that edged in frustration. He was happy that he found the key, unhappy with her methods of hiding it. A tad too trusting.

Giving another perfunctory knock, he let himself in. The house was warm, possibly a little too warm but it felt good against his chilled skin.

"Gill?"

He stepped further in the living room before hearing the shower. Relief started to flow through him before stopping short. For whatever reason his instincts were buzzing.

Moving down the hall, he noted that the bathroom door was ajar. Steam wafted out as the shower continued to spray. Underneath he could hear her sobs and his chest clenched painfully.

Giving a tentative knock, he kept his voice soft but loud enough to be heard. "Gill, luv? It's me."

The sobs broke briefly but her words were soaked in them. "I can't get warm Cal." If she was surprised that he was there, she gave no indication. The tone of her voice was hollow.

"Do you want to come on out? Dry off and I'll find every spare blanket in the place for you." His own voice was slightly strangled. He wondered if she was in shock.

"Will you come in?" The sobs were back.

"Do you want me to?"

"Uh huh."

Pausing, he kept his eyes carefully averted as he entered the small bathroom. "Do you need me to get anything for you?"

"No. Just you. Could you help me get warm?"

Cal swallowed thickly before slowly turning to face her.

She was curled up on the floor of the tub, hugging her knees to her chest and still wearing the dress from earlier. Gillian looked up at him with such a broken expression that he felt tears form behind his own eyes.

_Oh my God._

"We should get you dry."

She shook her head. "Not yet. Still have more hot water."

"Alright."

Holding a hand out to him, she looked just like a lost little girl. Without thought, he pushed off his boots with his toes and stepped into the spray. It wasn't a huge tub but he managed to maneuver enough to settle behind her. Gillian immediately turned to nestle against him as he wrapped his arms protectively around her.


	16. Chapter 16

**_Thank you for all your positive feedback! =)_**

* * *

><p>The water was heading into tepid territory when Cal got to his feet, turned off the shower and gently pulled her up with him.<p>

"You need to dry off and change Gill." His voice was a gentle murmur as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll gather some blankets and make some tea."

She nodded mutely but didn't leave the circle of his arms.

"C'mon luv." He reached behind them, grabbed one of her big, fluffy towels and wrapped it around her. "I'll see you in a minute. I'm not going anywhere."

One hand reached out and clutched his shirt before gradually loosening and attempting to smooth the wet fabric. She nodded again, looked up briefly into his face and turned to grab her pajamas off the counter.

He slipped out before she began to change and stood in the hallway. First things first. He needed some dry clothes. Gooseflesh rose against his skin as the chill from outside reconnected with him. He thought he might have left a couple articles of clothing in her guest room when he'd stayed with her several months back and wandered that way to check. Luckily, he found some pajama bottoms, but unfortunately that was it. With a sigh, he quickly stripped out of his wet clothes and pulled on the warm flannel. He immediately felt a little bit better but hoped that Gill might have a t-shirt or sweatshirt he could borrow. In the meantime, he went to her linen closet and pulled several extra blankets out before heading back up the hall. He tossed them on the couch before walking into the kitchen to put up some water for tea. It didn't even strike him as odd that he knew where she kept most everything. That was just the way it had been for years. Worry creased his features and gnawed at his insides. He wasn't really sure what to do for her, other than what he was doing. Maybe contacting one of her colleagues within the psych community would be a good idea. Gillian desperately needed someone to help her through this and he didn't think he was going to be enough.

"Cal?"

"Yeah luv. I'm here." He stepped out from the kitchen and his heart started to break all over again.

Gillian's face was wan with dark shadows below glassy eyes. Her hair had been hastily dried and pulled back in a loose ponytail. She wore her pajamas but she'd thrown a robe on as well. Her gaze flicked across him, dropped to his bare chest and jumped up again to his face. "Aren't you cold?"

"A little." He admitted. "Was hoping you had a t-shirt or somethin'."

"Bottom drawer. Big tees that I sleep in sometimes."

Cal gave her a tiny smile. "Tea'll be ready in a couple of minutes." He started to step past her before stopping. His gaze was tender as he met her eyes. "I pulled out a few blankets if you're still cold."

"Thank you." He grazed her cheek with his fingers before heading back up the hall once again. She watched after him, the ache inside somehow amplified. He'd come to her from the hospital in the middle of the night. Normally she would have questioned this, probably even been upset with him for sneaking out but she didn't feel much of anything now. Some part of Cal had known she needed him and he came to her like he'd heard a siren call. So why did she still feel so hollow?

He paused at the entry of her bedroom. This was the one room he'd never set foot in. Polished Cherry wood furniture, the comforter on the bed was a soft mauve, a comfy looking armchair sat in one corner, a few plants decorated the windowsill and several photos graced her dresser. Family, friends, and the two of them. He stared at the photo. It was a candid one taken several months earlier. They had been looking at one another, completely oblivious to the camera. Probably Emily's doing. Something seemed to stick in his throat as his eyes roamed over their respective faces. So much going on there.

_God, everything was so fucked up. _He had no idea where to go from here.

He didn't even hear her as Gillian stepped behind him, only feeling soft hands resting on either side of his ribcage. The touch of her lips against his upper back had his eyes closing, as tension hardened all the wiry muscles under his flesh. Her hands moved around him, palms now flat against his stomach and chest. Her mouth was warm against his skin as she gently kissed the side of his neck, her tongue trailing ever so slightly.

Pain, fear, love and temptation washed over him violently as his heart began to hammer and his body trembled. He suddenly couldn't catch his breath as his eyes flew back open.

_No, no, no…_ this should _not _be happening.

He felt paralyzed as her soft lips continued to press against him and her fingers trailed across his midsection.

So warm. He felt so good, so warm. His skin was smooth and hairless and her hands longed to explore further. She could feel his ribs under a thin layer of muscle before traipsing across his flat bellyand discovering a thin line of hair leading down from his navel. How close could she get to him? How close would he allow? After all, he had no clue of his admission. She got to suffer alone.

Her slender fingertips catching at the elastic of his pajama bottoms had him turning into her. Breathing hard, he knew his eyes were dark but it took everything in him not to capture her face in his hands and meld his lips with hers. Cal just stared at her instead, knowing she could see his agony.

Tilting her head, she watched him for a moment before her hands moved up to his face. She angled it down toward her and brushed her lips across the bruises around his left eye, making sure to touch them to his eyelid as well. Gill trailed them across his stubble, feeling him tremble under her hands.

"Gillian." His voice even shook.

She met his eyes again, seeing how they beseeched her. _Please_ _don't do this. _His hands had found her waist but she noticed that they didn't roam beyond.

"I need you close Cal."

"I'm here darlin'."

Pressing up against him she watched as his eyes closed. "Not close enough. I want to be warm. Please."

Something in his face seemed to break as he moved his hands to her upper arms. He shifted her away from him even as her expression implored him not to. "This isn't what you need right now."

Eyes burning, she shook her head. "You…don't understand Cal."

His hands cupped her face and his eyes connected with hers in that intense way of his. "I do luv. What happened to us…what happened to you…won't be easy to come back from. That son of a bitch stole something from you today and as much as I'd like to think otherwise, it's probably gone for good. But you can get beyond it. You're so strong Gill, you don't even realize how much. You've always been my rock, my touchstone." He gave a tiny smile. "You're the only one who can keep me in line after all. Just know that I will be here as long as you need me. I'm _not_ going anywhere."

She felt like her body was going to puddle onto her bedroom floor and the only thing that was keeping her upright was the strength of his gaze. "Promise?" Her voice seemed so tiny.

"Promise." He released her face and once again pulled her into his arms. She let out a shaky sigh as she relaxed against him.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Hmmm…did I crash and burn during that last chapter?**_

* * *

><p>Cal awoke sweating and confused in the early morning light. The heat was stifling and as he went to push himself out from under a mountain of blankets, he heard a tiny little whimper from the figure curled against his side.<p>

He frowned before realization flashed through him. _He was in Gillian's bed_.

_In. Her. Bed_.

Horror temporarily had him cold. He wasn't wearing a shirt. Please let him have pants on.

Shifting ever so slightly, he was careful not to wake her.

_Thank God_. Pajamas.

Memories were slow coming. He briefly wondered why that was. Was he _purposely_ trying _not_ to remember? Maybe they _did _have sex. The horror was back and relentless. He would _never_ take advantage of any woman, let alone Gillian.

_Wait a minute. _

His breath gushed out as his sleepy mind sharpened. Relief flooded through him before seeping into his bones.

_They hadn't slept together_. Well, actually they had but not in _that_ way. In her distraught state, she'd come on to him but for once he was thinking with his big head. He'd rebuffed her advances, countered with comfort, tea and more comfort. That's why he was currently in her bed.

Gillian would probably be embarrassed when she awoke. Normally it would be a ripe opportunity for teasing but not now. She was suffering and he wanted to do whatever he could to make it right.

Starting with breakfast.

Slipping gently out from under her hand, he padded out into the hall and toward the kitchen.

_**(BREAK)**_

Gillian gave a deep sigh and stretched before becoming aware of all the comforters stacked upon her, in addition to her warm pajamas and robe. She felt like she was in a sweatbox and didn't initially comprehend the reasoning behind it.

When she did, the nausea came quick and she found herself stumbling out of bed, into her bathroom and onto her knees. It appeared she hadn't eaten much, which was both fortunate and unfortunate. Fortunate that there wasn't much to come up, unfortunate in regard to the fact that her body _wanted_ to force something, _anything_, up.

She was finally done. At least she hoped so. Sitting down on the tile, she leaned her head against the cool porcelain of the toilet. Somewhere in the back on her mind she was thankful that she'd cleaned it recently.

Gradually she became aware of the smell of bacon. Her stomach wasn't sure how to handle it. There were hunger pangs shooting through but the nausea was also at ready.

_Who the hell was cooking bacon?_

As soon as the thought surfaced, she felt her face flame. Cal. He had come to her last night and she…_oh crap_. She'd just added to her own personal hell by trying to…

Her stomach heaved once more but again, she had nothing to show for it. Cold sweat broke out on her face and she shivered despite the warm of the house.

She was going to have to go face him. It wasn't like he was going anywhere. This was Cal after all.

There was something else too. Something that needed to be done.

Her mind grappled for several moments.

Oh.

Police station. She had to go make her statement. Tell them all the events leading up to and beyond the stabbing of Finn Bainbridge.

Her stomach clenched again. She was fairly certain at this rate she would never be leaving her bathroom.

That may not be such a bad thing.

His footsteps were absorbed by the thick bedroom carpet but she could sense his presence. Leaning her head against the arm propped against the edge of the toilet, she didn't look up. Couldn't bear to see his expression.

"Please go away Cal." Her voice was scratchy and raw.

Gillian heard the movement of fabric as he crouched down next to her. He was very close. She could almost smell his skin, which naturally brought another wave of shame.

One hand was gentle on her arm. "You know that's not gonna happen." It was a low murmur.

"Please."

He didn't respond. Nor did he leave. His hand dropped from her arm and she listened as he shifted and sat down on the tile next to her.

They were quiet for some time.

"You can't just sit in my bathroom with me all day." She felt so awful but at the same time his actions warmed and amused her. It was a weird mix.

"Watch me."

With much effort, she finally lifted her head and regarded him.

He was still only in a pair of pajama bottoms, having never bothered to find a shirt. Gill consciously kept her eyes from sweeping across his chest. It was hard.

"Took the liberty of tossin' my clothes in the dryer." Suddenly self-conscious, he regretted not snagging a t-shirt. "Should be done shortly."

"That's fine." Her eyes seemed to focus beyond him, careful not to meet his eyes.

"Gillian…"

A tiny headshake was his answer as her lips disappeared into a thin line. Her eyes threatened tears once again and she impatiently wiped at them.

"No. Listen." His hand found her face, thumb brushing near the corner of her mouth. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You did what you needed to do, nothing more, nothing less."

She shook her head again, not able to speak. He wasn't talking about her attempted seduction thank God. But she didn't really want him to talk about Bainbridge either. A sudden thought occurred to her.

"Have…have you heard anything?" Her blue eyes brushed his hazel ones briefly.

"Still alive luv. In ICU." Barely alive, that is. If Bainbridge did die, they'd walk into that emotional mind field together. Otherwise it wasn't worth bringing up.

"I have to give my statement today."

"Yeah, same here. They were supposed to come by this mornin' but…" He shrugged. "The patient went AWOL."

"You shouldn't have done that."

He grunted, his hand still on her face before allowing it to trail down to her neck and shoulder. It landed back in his lap. "I'm okay…besides…you needed me." His voice had gone quiet again as his eyes sought hers. He wanted to tell her about the memory but wasn't sure if it was the time and place…if there _ever_ was a time and place.

Wasn't she upset enough without the extra baggage? But then again, if her actions from last night were anything to go by, she _wanted_ to be with him. Of course she wasn't completely in her right mind either. _God damnit_.

"I guess you're not in the mood for breakfast, yeah? Or are you done with your case of the barfies?" He smiled at her, attempting to tease.

A loud growl emanated from her stomach and she quickly rested her hand against it, embarrassed.

"Well, that was timin'." He clambered to his feet and held out a hand to her. "Maybe just some eggs would be best. Get some protein in you."

She allowed him to help her up and soon found herself in close proximity. This time, she _could_ smell his skin, along with the faint smell of deodorant. The memory of her actions from the night before caused her to flush once again and close her eyes. When she opened them, she found his expression warm and loving. No judgment to be found. Her heart began to swell but she did her best to damp it down. She had no idea how much she loved him until the words had left her lips and it wasn't like she could put it all back inside. Of course she may as well considering he didn't remember anything about it anyway.

Cal watched as emotions rolled in waves across her face and couldn't help but believe he was at the epicenter. They desperately needed to talk but not now. She had too many other things to work through first.

"Maybe you want to…" His finger spiraled around her face before pointing to the sink. "And I'll plate you up some food. 'Kay luv?"

"Alright." The word sounded hollow again and Cal winced. He stood next to her, feeling slightly awkward for a moment before taking a step and pulling her against him. Her arms automatically wrapped around his back and a low sob escaped. Cal tightened the hug as his lips pushed against the side of her head. Maybe he _should_ tell her. But if it proved to be detrimental, he'd never forgive himself. He wanted her, loved her so damned much but the fear of hurting her bordered on terror. _God._ He honestly had _no_ idea what to do.


	18. Chapter 18

Cal sat quietly, keeping his body uncharacteristically still but inside there were a torrent of emotions ebbing and surging. Anger and guilt topped the crests.

He'd already given his statement. It had been short and concise, his limited memory offering up very little.

But now as he sat listening to Gillian, the true horror of the situation coldly seeped into his bones. The knowledge that she'd gone through it alone festered inside, sharpening his guilt. A huge part of him wanted to go unplug Finn before stopping at county to visit his father…

Of course she'd say that it wasn't his fault.

But they both knew that that wasn't the complete truth.

The Bainbridge family was powerful. He shouldn't have downplayed the possibility that they'd come after him. He'd been arrogant and stupid.

"…I woke up in the back of a large vehicle. They'd tied my wrists and ankles. I was blindfolded and gagged as well. I couldn't move. I had no idea where Lightman was…"

Cal looked down, studying his left boot. She was right next to him, her thigh inches from his.

"…there was a fight but I was still blindfolded. They were trying to inject him with something and I couldn't help…"

Her voice was flat as she recounted, staring past the detective, fixed on the back wall. That horrible empty tone made Cal want to fold her into his arms and kiss it all away. Not that that was a very likely scenario at the moment.

"They moved him upstairs and one of them came back down for me. We were locked in one of the bedrooms for the night."

"They didn't give any indication what it was they wanted?"

Gillian shook her head. "No, but I suspected. _W_e suspected."

"What happened then?"

She glossed over the night, not seeing any point in discussing the fear and borderline hysterics she found herself in or how she'd cuddled as close to Cal as she could.

"…after we were brought food, they drugged him again and then left us alone the rest of the day. I went through the room over and over again looking for something, _anything_, to defend myself but there wasn't a damned thing."

"How long was Dr. Lightman unconscious?"

"Hours. I lost track." Now her voice had softened to barely a whisper. "He awoke just a few minutes before someone slid the knife under the door."

"You believe it was the second kidnapper."

"Yes, I believe so. He, um, seemed a lot more…reluctant. As far as I know, there wasn't anyone else there."

"What happened then?"

Her heart began to hammer and the nausea crept into the center of her belly once again. _What happened then?_ What happened was that they thought they were going to die. He'd held her to him before admitting that he loved her. And always had. She'd returned the sentiment before they'd shared the most bittersweet kiss. She could still feel his lips firm upon hers, the gentle sweep of his tongue which had promised everything that _could_ have been. As she stared past the detective's dark head, she felt tears glaze over her eyes at the memory. It had been a kiss goodbye.

"Dr. Foster?"

"Um, I kept it…in case…in the event that I needed it."

Her words began to come faster as if she could fling them far away from her, make them distant. Less real.

Without looking up, Cal rested his hand over the two warring and twisting ones in her lap. One immediately stopped trying to injure the other and grabbed tightly to his as the words continued to pour out. Her account of Berkley's death and Finn's stabbing was a lot more coherent than his own. His had been fuzzy and surreal, hers was sharply chiseled in granite. Another wave of guilt crashed over him. _What a fucked up situation. _Of course it could have been worse. Much worse.

The detective was quiet for a moment after Gillian finished. Cal was aware of the low hum of the computer, the distant chaos outside the office door, the squeak of the detective's loafer as he shifted to complete his notes. The silence was deafening.

They'd survived though. Against the odds. Victims in these types of situations rarely fared well, Cal knew from experience. Usually bodies were discovered by the errant hunter and his faithful dog months later, if ever. He closed his eyes, aware of the tight grip of Gillian's fingers. They were almost painful but he didn't care.

"Is there anything else you need Detective?" Cal looked up, staring at the man's bowed head.

He didn't answer immediately as his pen chicken scratched across his note pad. "I think that should be it. Thank you for your time. Just be aware, depending on whether Bainbridge recovers or not, the D.A. will most likely be contacting you."

Cal nodded grimly.

She wasn't listening. Despite the sleep she'd managed to grab last night, she was exhausted. All she wanted was to crawl into her bed and pass out for the next two weeks if possible.

A gentle hand was tugging her to her feet before it looped around her waist in support. "C'mon luv. I'll take you home." His voice was low, accent heavy. She always loved to listen to him. She chose to concentrate on his wonderful lilt rather than dead, staring eyes or the solid thud of a knife. A shudder ran through her as her concentration wavered.

"Kay?" His lips were by her ear. She almost shuddered again but for a different reason.

"Yeah. I'm alright." They were somehow outside again. The cool temps felt good against her face.

He didn't argue as he guided her to the car.

When they were both seated inside, he didn't immediately move to start the engine, just proceeding to stare straight ahead through the windshield.

"Gill?"

Her heart gave a little clench before releasing. "Yeah?"

"Is there someone I can call for you?"

Was there…? _Probably_. Did she want him to? _Probably not_. At least not right now. As a psychologist she knew she needed to take steps to help her recover from what was considered a major trauma. But she just wasn't ready.

She shook her head as he eyed her worriedly.

Returning his gaze, she attempted a shaky smile. "I'll do what I need to do when I feel it's time."

Cal continued to watch her in that unnerving way of his before he allowed a sigh. "Just know I'm here Gill. I'll do whatever I can to help you."

"You are aware you went through this shit too right?"

Very much so, especially Finn making an attempt to cut his tongue out but it still seemed more of a nightmare that anything else. "Yeah luv, but it's not the same."

She shrugged, averting her eyes to look out the side window. "Could you please take me home?"

"Sure."

She wanted to ask him to stay with her once again but it didn't seem right. He'd want to get home, see Emily, probably go out to the Lightman Group to touch base, among other things. With any luck, he'd stay away from the old man, although she wondered what the likelihood of that would be.

The ride back to her place was quiet.

He pulled into the driveway and made it a point to walk her to the door. An air of awkwardness settled as unvoiced emotions swirled between them. She had the urge to prod him about his memories and he had the urge to admit what he remembered. Neither said anything.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" He tilted his head, regarding her closely.

_Yes. Please. Don't ever leave me again_. God, that seems so co-dependant. She berated herself quickly and harshly. "I think I'm okay."

"We both know that's not true."

Something suddenly shifted and darkly snaked inside as she looked at him, vehemence lashing outward at the closest target. "Of course it's not true. I was kidnapped, terrorized and almost tortured and murdered by some psycho who hated you and wanted revenge. Lucky me because I'm always in the wrong place and wrong time when it comes to _your_ arrogance and _your_ fuck ups!" _And your emotional retardation_. She managed to leave off that last part but it wasn't easy. Her body was trembling as she fought to control herself.

Hurt and more than a little guilt passed through his eyes as he slowly nodded. "Fair enough."

Before she could open her mouth to retract what had been said, he'd turned and strode back to the car. Without pause he climbed in, keeping his eyes down and put the car into gear.

She watched the car retreat before dropping to the front stoop and covering her face in her hands.


	19. Chapter 19

Cal just drove. He had no destination in mind, just seeking to quiet the noise in his head.

He didn't blame her. Not at all. All those pent up emotions had to go somewhere. They just happened to blow up all over him. Of course she was _right_ about _everything._ He _did _share a lot of the blame. Sure, he wasn't responsible for their abduction but if he'd taken certain warnings a little more seriously it was possible they wouldn't have wound up in that situation to begin with. Police protection would have certainly discouraged it but the idea of someone following him around 24 hours a day had put such a bad taste in his mouth. It wasn't how he did things. Yeah. And look what happened.

With a sigh, he guided the car onto the freeway heading east. It seemed a reasonable direction. Just get out of the city. The city added to the ruckus in his mind.

Once he shook off the DC traffic, the drive became a little more pleasant as the rolling Maryland hills started to close around him. Fall was making its presence known as the rich reds, golds and oranges of the season spread through the trees. It was his favorite time of the year and normally he'd enjoy the views a lot more. Unfortunately that wasn't to be. He was too damned distracted.

It was probably best to give her a little space. Maybe he was just irritating her by being under foot. But then again, was it a bad thing to leave her alone? _Shit_. He had no idea. It wasn't like he was a shrink or anything. He wanted to be near her, desperately so but he wasn't sure if he wanted to be in the line of fire either. He might feel compelled to fight back and he didn't want to do that.

But then again, she had every right to lash out at him. Maybe he should just stand up and take it. Considering that everything _was_ his fault it even might be a good idea to let her have at it.

But Gillian wanted him near too, he was positive of that. She _needed_ him near. Or was that just what he _hoped _she felt? He wanted to think she needed him when in fact maybe she just needed to be away from him.

What was that about a woman needing a man like a fish needs a bicycle? Especially a man like him.

But the again, she'd wanted him to make love to her last night. Hardly in her right mind though. The memory flickered from that tiny upstairs bedroom in the cabin…_I love you too. _They'd kissed. At least he _thought_ they had.

Of course we don't always know what's best for us either. We're often attracted to things that aren't good for us. Like Gillian wanting to be with him. He definitely _wasn't_ good for her. But then again, why did it seem so right? He could easily picture taking her in his arms, kissing her, physically loving her. But didn't he picture that with almost any attractive woman? He did, after all, tend to be a bit of a horn dog. Not something he was particularly proud of but something he recognized nonetheless.

_No, he didn't_ _imagine it with just any attractive woman_. Sex was one thing. Lovemaking was something completely different. Gillian deserved more than just a slam, bam, thank you ma'am.

If he 'then again-ed' one more time Cal was fairly certain that he'd scream like a charging bull and drive off the road.

He punched the steering wheel several times in agitation. God he loved her. So much that he ached. And here he was speeding away from her at 70 miles per hour.

_Fuck_. What the hell was he doing?

He took a breath. Must be rational. Or at least try.

Moments later he was done attempting to be rational.

Cal took the first off ramp to make a U-turn.

_**(BREAK)**_

Gillian had gone inside when she'd started to shiver and began to feel the eyes of the neighborhood start to fall on her. Any second Mrs. Travers from next door would wander over to check on her.

That was all she needed. The elderly lady meant well but Gillian was in no mood to offer explanations or field questions.

Still sniffling, she palmed at her eyes as she got up and let herself inside.

She'd shoved him away. One of the most important people in her life and she'd cast blame and sent him packing.

Stepping into her entry, she pulled the door shut behind her, mindful to lock the deadbolt. The sobs were threatening once again and it was starting to piss her off. As much as she attempted to push back, they overwhelmed her. With running eyes, she headed to the kitchen for a glass of wine. Probably not the best thing but she poured anyway, almost leaving the bottle on the counter before changing her mind and bringing it into the living room.

Everything was just such a mess.

_She hoped the bastard died._

The thought wove its way out of her subconscious, making her breath falter. If Finn died, what would that make _her_?

_A killer_.

No. It was self-defense.

_Doesn't matter. _

Gillian sat on her comfy couch and drank her wine, finishing it in several gulps.

_Had Cal killed at one time? Was he a killer? Was there some kind of exclusive club that she might get to join soon?_ The thought made her ill. She'd always suspected that he'd had his hands dirtied on more than one occasion but had he actually taken a human life? Something about his tone at the hospital made her wonder.

_Killing someone is a life changing experience luv. That's not something you should be saddled with._

If she pushed, would he actually open up to her? It was hard to say. With few exceptions, he'd always veered away from talking about his past.

Gillian poured herself another glass. It was a merlot that she'd picked up a few days ago. Sweet and soothing.

Would he be back? Most of her thought so but a tiny part was terrified he wouldn't. She'd been pretty hard on him but it had come out so swiftly that she had had no time to swallow back the barb. It had stung her even as it smacked him between the eyes. And here she thought she had superb self-editing skills.

The light was starting to wan a little, but she made no move to turn the closest lamp on. Last night all she wanted was every light burning and now she craved the darkness. Wanted it to wrap itself around her, maybe suffocate her if it would be so kind.

Maybe she should call him. He'd been able to recover his phone from the police station this afternoon. It had been in Berkley's duffle bag but she guessed they saw no reason to hang onto it. He may not even pick up.

Of course he could have called her too but why would he? She'd made her feelings crystal clear earlier. But he knew her better than that. He knew she'd cool down and be more receptive to him later. That was the way things worked. Usually.

She took another sip.

_**(BREAK)**_

The phone rang when he was almost back to the city and Cal almost gagged as his heart lodged itself in the back of his throat.

No guarantee it was Gillian anyway.

Taking a breath he pulled the cell from his pocket without looking at the ID. It was better not to know.

"Lightman."

"It's Reynolds. I have some news and I wanted to…"His voice stalled and Cal's heart began to sink back down, through his chest and into his belly.

"Yeah?"

There was a strong intake of breath on the other end. "I wanted to contact you first."

"He's dead isn't he?" Cal felt numb. He didn't give a rat's ass about Bainbridge but he couldn't stand the fact that his death could conceivably destroy Gillian.

"Yeah. About an hour ago. I figured you might want to…"

"I'll take care of it."

Silence for several moments. "She can't blame herself for this."

"That's exactly what's she's gonna do."

Once pure, now tainted. Cal felt bile rise up.

"If she needs anything. Or you for that matter." Ben sounded a little awkward, which was unusual. "Well, you know where to find me."

"Thanks mate." Cal disconnected and tossed the phone on the seat.

The world was a better place with the death of Finnley Bainbridge, there was no doubt about that. But why couldn't it have been him to take out the son of a bitch? Why did it have to had been Gill?

His head was filled with white noise as he traveled the last few miles back to Gillian. He should never have left in the first place. Might as well mark it as mistake number 3,465,106. And he knew he was far from done yet.

Cal felt on autopilot as he pulled back into her driveway and moved toward the front door. This time, all the lights were out. A direct contradiction to last night. Maybe she just went out.

Not too likely.

Rapping with two knuckles, he listened carefully. There didn't initially seem to be any movement inside. He was having a profound sense of déjà vu when he heard her soft voice. He had to strain to decipher the words.

"Let yourself in Cal."

He did, pausing only to pull the door shut and lock it behind him.

Gillian sat on the sofa. He could barely make out her silhouette.

"Mind if I turn a lamp on luv? Gonna break my neck otherwise."

"Suit yourself." The words were a little caustic but the tone was not. She sounded…lost and bewildered. His heart shriveled at little.

Switching on the entry light, half her face was now bathed in light. Shifting slightly, she blinked up at him. "Am I part of the club now?"

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><p><em><strong>Not so sure about this chapter. May have bounced around a little TOO much to show indecision. Thoughts? <strong>_


	20. Chapter 20

Cal tilted his head slightly, frowning. There was an open bottle of wine on the coffee table that appeared to be ¾ empty. He wondering how much was in there to start. "What's that luv?"

She shook her head, eyes dropping to the glass in her hands before taking another sip. "I'm sorry about earlier." Gillian's voice was so low he had to strain to hear her.

With a sigh, he stepped close and dropped himself into the couch cushions, making sure to leave a bit of space between them. "You were right." He gave a shrug, attempting to dismiss her earlier outburst.

"I was out of line." She still didn't look up.

"You went through some serious crap Gill. It would be weird if you _didn't_ blow up all over me." Cal allowed a tiny little smile. "I'm tough, I can take it."

Her face twisted slightly. "Yeah, that's why you left."

He winced. "Touché, darlin'."

She wondered if he'd ever be completely honest with her or if it was just too much to ask. Maybe she should come out and ask. Ask him if he loved her, ask him about his past and press for some real answers for a change. But would she just wind up alienating him? She didn't want him to go away again.

"Reynolds called." His eyes fell to the wine and briefly debated the wisdom of searching out something stronger.

Ice fell into her belly. She'd been right. Into the exclusive club she headed. "He's dead isn't he?"

She listened as he took a breath. "Yeah."

Gillian had expected as much but the confirmation still seemed unreal, so distant. _She'd killed a man._ Sure, he'd had it coming but her actions had snuffed out that energy that had made Finnley Bainbridge who he was. She'd changed him from a person into a shell. Cal would argue that he'd _barely_ been a person beforehand and in some regard, he'd probably be right. Nonetheless the man had once been a child. He could have even been a happy and good-natured one before the darkness settled in him. Sociopaths often started showing signs early. How _long_ did his father cover for him?

She became aware of Cal's warm hand on her arm and she slowly looked up to meet his eyes. He wasn't even attempting to hide his emotions. His fear for her was like a beacon in the night but the love was there too. That pesky emotion that rarely seemed to see the light of day but shined out at her on the few occasions when his veil lifted. He didn't say a word but his fingers gently rubbed over the sleeve of her top as he watched her.

"What do I do now?"

His fingers still lightly caressed as his other arm looped the top of the couch behind her. She'd inadvertently moved closer to him but didn't remember doing it.

"You take one day at a time. You find things that made you happy. And you slowly move on." His voice was a tender murmur.

She stilled his hand by taking it in her own. "Is that what _you_ did?"

The tension was instantaneous and she wanted to regret the question that had so innocently slipped between her lips. But she didn't. She craved honesty for a change.

"_What_?" He pulled his hand away as he shifted to look directly into her face.

She wanted to tell him that it was okay. They were both members of the club now. But she didn't. She waited instead.

"_Gillian_?"

She met his eyes again, feeling oddly calm. "Yes Cal?"

"Why…" He shook his head. "_What_ are you askin' me?"

"I am asking you if we share more common ground now." Her voice was undemanding but her expression was anything but.

"I…I'm not sure…" His heart was pounding in his throat and he could feel a cold sweat pop out on his forehead. "I'm not sure…I'm getting' ya." He knew damn well what she meant.

She sat up a little straighter, moved a little closer. "I think there's something in your past that put you in the same position that I am now."

The heartbeat was in his ears now. How had she come to this conclusion? Had he said something that he didn't remember?

"Please Cal. I would like some honesty. Emotional honesty would be wonderful too but I'm not holding my breath." There was actually a teasing quality there even as he contemplated horrifying memories from a whole lifetime ago. It was so incongruous.

He took a deep breath, letting his eyes shut for several moments before opening them and meeting her pained but curious blue ones. "You think I killed someone."

"Am I wrong?"

_Somehow_ the dynamic had shifted on him. _Somehow_ she suddenly seemed the one comforting _him_. What the hell happened?

"This isn't about me. Whatever happened long ago was long ago. I want to help _you_ through this present situation." He leaned forward again, catching her eye, attempting to shift things back.

She should have known he'd sidestep. Anger began to flair once again but she bit it back. To be honest, she had no right to be angry. Whatever had happened, he'd dealt with it, packaged it up and put it away. Was it right for her to ask him to relive something like that? Was she being selfish thinking that he'd want to compare and contrast? What the hell was the matter with her? She knew what the matter was. She killed a man yesterday. A nervous giggle almost escaped. God, she must be going crazy. Taking a cleansing breath, she pushed the feeling away.

"Why can't you talk to me?" Gillian reached out, feeling the stubble under her fingertips as she touched his face.

Jumping up, Cal's body felt tense, wired. He didn't understand where this was coming from. "This isn't about me!" It was almost a shout and he immediately threw some more guilt onto his already hefty pile.

"I think it is. I think it's about both of us." She looked at him, surprisingly calm. "I know I'm not alone here and I…" Her voice caught for just a moment. "I need that assurance."

The muscle on the side of his jaw was throbbing in agitation as he gritted his teeth. This was not something he thought would, or _could_, ever come up. What had he said that made her suspect? He couldn't think for the life of him. It must have been something from their time in the cabin.

"It wasn't something you said. It was _how_ you said something." She could see him struggling with his memory and didn't want to add to the confusion.

He stared at her blankly.

"In the hospital you said that you were glad Finn didn't die. You said that killing someone is a life changing experience and that I shouldn't be saddled with it."

Cal continued to stare and she watched as his face shifted, became less guarded, almost sad.

"What you said was truthful on a personal level. There was no way you were just making some kind of blanket statement." Her voice had softened as she hesitantly held out a hand to him. "You know about me. I want to know about you."

He didn't move. _She already knew him_. Amazingly so. One unguarded moment brought the floodgates open and a tragic incident from his past tumbling out. Of course she was currently drowning in her own personal hell. It made sense that she'd grasp onto something tangible like a lifeline.

The confession was close but if he did, what else was he likely to confess tonight?

Her slender hand was still stretched out to grasp his, her eyes oddly patient.

On numb legs, he once again approached the couch. She took his hand and he allowed her to pull him down next to her.

"Tell me."

"I'm not sure how this is going to help you luv."

His hand was still grasped in hers and as he watched, her other hand came up to further cradle his. Her fingers were so delicate. He looked back up when she began to speak again.

"It would be nice…" She stopped, blinking back tears. "It would be nice to know that I'm not as…alone as I feel."

Swallowing, the sadness reared up in him again. "You'll never be alone."

Gillian wondered if he'd suddenly shifted the conversation. His eyes seemed to be bridging some kind of gap but she couldn't be sure.

"Tell me." Her voice was a murmur as she repeated the request.

"Very long time ago." He gently pulled his hand from between hers and placed it around her shoulders. Gillian automatically moved a little closer. Close enough that he could press a kiss to her temple and inhale the fragrance of her hair.

"How old were you?" Her breath was now against his neck.

"Nineteen."

"So young."

"Yeah." Cal acknowledged.

Gillian waited for him to continue, feeling a tiny bit of comfort as she leaned into him.


	21. Chapter 21

**_So sorry for the lag but life sometimes gets in the way. You know how it goes. :-)_**

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><p><em>Normally he wasn't the type to run but those guys meant business and Cal wasn't about to hang around while they 'discussed' it with Colin and him.<em>

_ Chest and lungs burning, he leaned over in an attempt to catch his breath. He was small but fast so it wasn't difficult to leave them all behind._

_ Including Colin. Oh fuck._

_ He carefully peeked around the corner and down the darkened street._

_ Nothing._

_ Mouth going dry, he felt his heart start to accelerate once again. Colin. One of his best mates since grade school._

_ Face hardening, he stealthily slipped around and backtracked. He had no idea what he was going to do, only knowing he couldn't let them hurt his friend or worse. Cal figured he'd make it up as he went. That was often how he did things._

It was the wee hours of the morning and the street was quiet. Off in the distance he heard the mournful sound of a train but other than that, all he could hear was his heart in his ears and the dim shuffle of his shoes on concrete.

_ There's never an easy way to make money. It always comes back to bite you in the end. Colin should have known. Hell, _he_ should have tried harder to pull him out of it. But Colin was always hard-headed, even worse than Cal, if that were possible._

_ Cal could now hear the soft grunt of air expelling and the smack of knuckles on flesh._

_ There. The alley just a couple of meters up on his left._

_ He moved forward to take a quick glance around the corner before pulling back._

_ Three of them against one. And Colin didn't have a lot of meat on him. Kind of skinny in fact._

_ A slow burn moved up and through Cal. It didn't displace his fear but the anger seemed to help hone and sharpen his racing mind. _

_ Looking around, his eyes scanned for some kind of weapon. _Anything_ he could use to defend himself and his mate. Several bottles lay on their sides by the rubbish. He didn't see anything else. Hopefully it would be enough. Hopefully no one was carrying a gun._

_ Grabbing one of them off the ground, he took a breath and turned the corner._

_ "All tough at three to one, eh?" His voice didn't even shake. Cal was impressed with himself for about a quarter of a second._

_ "How sweet." The one who spoke was Colin's supplier, Dale. Only middle management but dangerous nonetheless. "Came back for your lad here?"_

_ Colin's gaze shifted over to Cal. He had a bloodied nose and a gash across his cheekbone but his eyes were sharp. They easily read, "I am completely fucked."_

_ "You got your money. Judging from his face, seems he might have learned his lesson." _

_ Dale smiled, teeth slightly yellowed with nicotine. "Don't think so." His eyes not leaving Cal, his order was barked over his shoulder. "Take care of Colin, I can handle this one little arsehole."_

_ Not leaving it to chance, Cal immediately hit the bottle against the brick wall of the alley. The glass exploded, leaving jagged pieces. "Donne think so." He held it in front but close to his body. _

_ The grin widened. "You're gonna cock it up even more for your mate."_

_ "Think he'll understand."_

_ Dale's grin dropped as the knife appeared in his hand. A long-handled switchblade. The blade glinted in the dim light, wicked and lethal looking. Cal felt himself swallow._

_ "Maybe if you drop that bottle, I'll let you leave."_

_ "Not without Colin."_

_ The older man took a step forward. "You're a brave little git aren't ya?" He took another step, smile returning._

_ He was now only within a few feet and Cal knew he was being underestimated. It definitely wasn't the first time. Because of his size, it happened frequently. Usually against the other person's best interests. Of course this was a little different. No bare knuckles._

_ The next few moments blurred for Cal, his actions instinctive._

_ Dale moved forward quickly, the knife slicing the air and Cal barely had time to dodge as the blade cut through the fabric of his jacket. He immediately lashed out with the broken bottle in his hand, his mind dimming slightly. Not really aiming, he moved it upward in a high arc._

_ Right across the other man's throat._

_ The blade dropped to the ground as Dale used both hands in an attempt to stem the sudden gush of blood from the severed artery._

_ "Holy shit!" One man holding Colin abruptly let his charge go as the other followed suit. They beat it out of the alley, brushing past Cal, Cal not noticing._

_ Time seemed to have frozen as Cal watched Dale fall to his knees, blood spurting out from between his fingers, a horrible gargling sound emitting from him. He wasn't sure if the sound came from the man's mouth or through the ragged gash. One hand left the ruined throat and reached out to Cal, eyes connecting with and holding his own._

_ Cal took a sudden step back when blood splashed his shoes but couldn't break eye contact. His stomach curdled sickeningly and he felt the sweat cold against his forehead and he still couldn't look away._

_ The man seemed to be begging but there was nothing Cal could do. He watched the life flicker before going dark. The body slumped at his feet, blood pooling._

_ "Cal! We've gotta get outta here!" Colin grabbed at his arm but Cal didn't move, watching the pool move closer to his shoes, mesmerized. The blood was very dark in the yellow streetlight. He vaguely remembered reading that in old black and white cinema they'd sometimes use chocolate syrup for blood._

_ "WE HAVE TO GO NOW!" Colin grabbed Cal by the jacket and hauled him forcefully along._

_**(BREAK)**_

"Ran with the bloody bottle in my hand for about five blocks before Colin yanked it, wiped it and tossed it."

Gillian lifted her head and looked at his profile, watching the clenching of his jaw, noting the distance of his eyes as he stared at the long ago memory. She felt sick. Sick for him, sick for herself.

"He somehow got us back to my flat, got me cleaned up, waited while I threw up." The timbre of his voice held deep sadness and regret. "Although he seemed a lot older at the time, the man I killed probably wasn't even out of his twenties. Not all that much older than I was."

She nestled a little closer, one hand resting on his leg. "I'm so sorry Cal."

"You wanted to know." It could have been caustic but he was just stating a grim fact. "Long time ago, luv."

There was a part of her that was sorry she'd asked but at the same time she felt grateful that he'd chosen to open up to her. It was one heck of a burden. "Did the police…?"

"No." He gave a humorless chuckle. "Got away with it. He had pretty bad reputation so I don't think the cops tried too hard."

"Got away with…?" Gillian pushed up and looked directly at him.

He continued to stare straight ahead, mindful of her searching eyes but not willing to allow her to negate his actions all those years ago.

"It sounds like you were defending yourself and your friend."

"Yeah but I spent years reliving it. Nightmares, daymares and such. Always thought there could have been a better way. I mean, Jesus, I stuck a broken bottle in that guy's throat."

"And I stuck a knife in a guy's back."

He sighed. "Quite the couple we are."

"Apparently."

With a suddenness that reminded her of all his relentlessly coiled energy, he was on his feet and heading into her kitchen. He returned a moment later with two glasses and a bottle of bourbon.

"Help yourself Cal."

A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth but his eyes were still distant. "Think something stronger than wine might be in order." He broke the seal and poured them each a couple fingers worth.

He handed her one and she nodded her thanks.

"And I'm supposed to be here for _you_." Disgust laced his voice as his downed his drink.

"You are. I don't think you realize how much."

"If I could change everything I would."

"I know." She took a tiny sip, the liquid warm and smooth. "But you can't. We both just need to move on. What did you say before? Take things day by day. Do things that make us happy. Move on. It's good advice Cal." She leaned into him once again, closing her eyes when she felt him press his cheek against the top of her head.

"Good thing we have one another to lean on." Gill could hear and feel the low rumble of his voice through his chest. It held immediate comfort.

Tears started to cloud her eyes again. "Yeah, it _is_ a good thing."


	22. Chapter 22

"What happened to Colin?"

Cal took another sip, paused before downing what bourbon was left in his glass. He didn't initially answer.

Waiting, Gillian didn't push. She listened to the steady beat of his heart and moved with rise and fall of his chest, now knowing that he'd tell her when he was ready.

Moving forward, he filled his glass again before repositioning himself back next to her. "Dead."

"I'm sorry." She'd expected it. His body language gave her clear indication.

With a shrug, Cal took another sip. "There's the rub. Saved his arse, compromised myself in the process and the bastard ups and O.D's on me a few years later."

"Accident?" The question came out before she could stop herself and she silently berated herself.

He didn't react, didn't indicate that he made any kind of internal digression toward his mother. "Yeah. Bloke was too fond of mixin' his highs. It was probably inevitable."

"People have to make their own way. We can give advice, try to guide them but ultimately it's up to them."

Cal grunted without comment. Normally he'd bristle at her sliding into shrink territory but he recognized that she was using it to cope with her own burden. After all, Finn had made his own choices. And those choices led directly to his death.

They were quiet for several moments, Cal very conscious of her soft weight against him. His breath hitched when she stroked his leg and gave it a pat. He then started breathing again. She didn't seem to notice.

"Thank you for your honesty Cal."

The words speared through him. Honesty. He was currently being anything but. Well, at least not completely. Holding her felt so good yet the words kept catching at the base of his throat. He'd already admitted everything to her but as far as she was concerned, he didn't remember doing it. He was being a royal tosser for not coming clean but he honestly didn't know if it would help or hurt at this point. She currently had so much to deal with. He didn't want to add to it.

"You're the only one who knows." The words slipped out and he wished they hadn't. Maybe it was the bourbon. "Colin took it to his grave and it wasn't like _I _was gonna say anythin' to anyone." He finished his drink, repercussions be damned. "At least not 'til now."

Gillian was overwhelmed with the magnitude of his secret. Her heart broke for him even as she realized that that was how he was. There were probably lots of skeletons rattling around in his closet. It was hard to imagine anything more horrendous then what he now shared with her though.

"Probably would never have even told you if…well, if you weren't dealin' with what you're dealin' with." Yeah, the bourbon was definitely kicking in.

He felt her stiffen slightly next to him before she relaxed again.

"That's one heck of a secret to keep inside for so long." Gillian felt a touch of hurt but at the same time she wasn't sure if she blamed him. What had happened was tragic without a doubt. But it was also something that could have sent him to prison. Self-defense would have been hard to prove. Her own situation was a little more black and white, at least she _hoped_ it was.

"Got easier with time, I guess." He poured himself a refill and took a swallow. "'Course there wasn't much choice was there?"

"How awful for you."

He smiled at the compassion in her voice. Such a selfless person. He came over to be with _her_, comfort _her_ and she'd turned the tables of him. He'd tried to turn them back but it hadn't really worked out that way. Shame sunk in yet again, eliminating the smile.

"What are you thinking?" She moved back from him but watched, a tiny little smile on her lips.

_I love you so much and I'm the biggest chicken shit in the world. _

"I'm seeing a lot of conflict." Her tone was gentle, no accusation anywhere.

"Thought it was against the rules to read me." It was louder than he'd intended. "You always get pissy when I do it to you."

"Doesn't stop you from trying to do it anyway."

The smile pulled at him again. "True that." He stared back at her. "What do you think you see?"

Not answering, she took of sip of her own drink, eyes fixing on some point beyond him. She was still on the first, the wine she drank earlier having been more than enough. Gillian didn't want to attempt to read him but she suspected there would be a direct correlation between how many glasses of bourbon he ingested and how easy he would be to read. Would she see the love that she knew was hidden beneath the surface? Probably. At least she thought so. Whatever drug he'd been given in that old cabin had loosened his tongue but it was also coupled with the fear that they wouldn't get out of there alive. Of course, she couldn't help but wonder how he'd react if _she_ was the one to come clean. Would he run screaming? Would he push her away (that seemed the most likely scenario) or would he pull her into an embrace that would have new levels of meaning? Or they could just stay in stasis forever. That held little appeal. Both of them could easily go to the old age home steeped in denial at this rate. Maybe she was going to have to be the one. For all his bravado, Cal was just a little boy when it came to emotions. That was part of the reason for this annoying mental dance around making a decision. _Shit._

"You're a million miles away." His voice was low, slightly thick. He held a touch of fear about what might be going on behind her eyes. Part of him recognized the fact that certain truths might be revealed but the other part was terrified about it. Once spoken, it wasn't like it could be placed back inside the neat little container in his heart where it had been lurking all these years.

"Just a lot to digest."

He nodded, watching her face as it shifted back toward him, catching his eyes.

Even though Cal would disagree, she would never consider herself especially brave so as she looked him in the eye, her heart started strumming harder than usual as she felt ice drop into her belly. She watched as he frowned at her in confusion as he caught all her mixed signals. Taking a breath, Gillian let it out slowly, attempting to calm her trembling soul. "Do you remember anything else about the cabin?" Her voice was slightly higher and she inwardly cringed.

_Uh oh._ The moment's finally here. Question was: what should he do about it? Feign ignorance? Tell her the truth? Act shocked if she admits everything? Pretend he doesn't feel the same? No, he couldn't do that. Not anymore. Maybe it was time to step forward. Fuck if that prospect wasn't scary as hell. He had such a horrendous track record. But maybe it was because he was never with the right person. But then again, maybe it was just because he was a selfish git.

"Cal?"

"Yeah luv?" Pretending he'd zoned, his brows rose in question.

A rippling of disappointment ran through her face. "You didn't hear me."

He opened his mouth, closed it again. The look on her face was slowly killing him. He couldn't keep doing this to her, to them. _Shit or get off the pot Lightman_, _what's it going to be?_


	23. Chapter 23

**_Thank you for all your lovely reviews and comments. Hope this next chapter doesn't disappoint. ;-)_**

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><p>Her expression dropped and settled into an eerie blankness. "Never mind Cal." Gillian started to push up from the couch before his hand quickly snaked out and curled around her slender wrist, effectively stilling her.<p>

Cal's eyes stayed on their hands, noting the soft skin under his fingertips and how delicate her hand appeared. Her nails were kept a reasonable length but still held the remnants of color she'd coated them with before their abduction – a pretty light raspberry. He longed to bring her fingers to his lips but refrained, knowing that she needed words now, not questionable actions. "When I was in hospital, even for that short time, I had some bloody awful nightmares."

"That's not too surprising." Gillian kept her voice even despite the fact that his thumb had gently begun to stroke the underside of her wrist, eliciting gooseflesh. He didn't seem to notice. At least not yet.

"Suppose not, but there was somethin' else. Kind of, in the middle, there was a bit of warm and fuzzy."

She couldn't help it. Cocking an eyebrow, a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. "Warm and fuzzy? That's not very Cal Lightman-ish."

"Well, there's somethin' else not to tell your friends. Ruin my reputation and all that." He finally looked up and met her eyes. "Not sure completely…well, I have my suspicions, mind you, but nothing concrete. I can't be certain if that little dream was just that or if it was a memory."

Her breath stopped as they stared at one another.

"Maybe you could help me out darlin'." His eyes were unwavering but she could see the uncertainty and fear. She could definitely relate.

"Okay. I'll try."

Nodding, he continued, struggling. "Did I…uh…say anythin' that…would be…um…considered inappropriate? I mean, considering our workin' relationship?"

"Well, you didn't ask for sex if that's what you're intimating." Her tone was dry and her breathing had kicked in again, even if it was a little stilted. "We slept together but we didn't _sleep _together."

"No no, I _wouldn't do that_." His eyes shifted beyond her. "Well, I might think it but I wouldn't _say_ it." His expression slowly morphed to one of complete horror as he met her gaze once again. "I didn't…?"

She wasn't sure why she was teasing him. Maybe because if she didn't do something to lighten the mood, she might start screaming and not stop. "No, you were the perfect gentleman…when you were conscious. Otherwise you were hogging the bed."

The idea of sharing a bed with her made him feel a little dizzy. Or was it the bourbon? Or a combination of everything? If he had to wager, he'd say it was a combo of all of the above. "What I'm tryin' to ask is, well…" He stopped, suddenly angry with himself. Man up Lightman. You know she feels the same way. Out with it already. "I think I may have said somethin' and I just wanted to confirm it."

"O…kay." The dryness had left her tone. It was now tentative, vulnerable. "Is it something you…regret?"

His thumb continued to stroke her wrist before he brought her hand up and gently pressed his lips against her knuckles, figuring it would be okay when coupled with words. "No darlin'. It isn't. Feels a bit awkward though, yeah?"

"A little." She acknowledged softly.

It wasn't just a dream then. Her expression and body language said it all. Of course he'd already known that. Turning her hand, he touched his lips to her palm. "In the dream I told you that I loved you and always have." Cal's eyes moved up to hers again, worry evident.

"And I responded in the like." Her body was trembling and there were so many emotions clashing with one another. Love, happiness, nervousness, fear, confusion. The list went on but the dominant one currently seemed to be relief.

"Not just a dream."

"No."

They watched one another closely. "Where do we go from here?" Gillian asked timidly.

"Guess that depends."

"On what?" Even as the words left her lips, she suspected she knew.

"On you." His worry was still plain. "I've loved you for a very long time Gill but I…" Pausing, his mouth twisted to the side. "I…never really thought that you could feel the same way. I mean, I'm not a particularly good guy, not the most stable. I don't really think that…that I…merit…that kind of devotion."

Keeping one hand firmly in his, she raised the other one to gently stroke the side of his face. "You sell yourself too short."

He unconsciously pushed his cheek into her hand and closed his eyes.

"You can be abrasive and difficult but your passion is unmatched. Your loyalty puts others to shame. You forget how well I know you Cal."

Opening his eyes, they landed on her face once again. "Didn't know that I killed someone."

"No, but I read as much in the hospital. Just couldn't read any details." Her fingers continued to caress his face, noting the variation of soft skin, prickly stubble and creases inherited from a life lived harshly at times. Weirdly enough, it kind of summed him up. "I'm fairly certain I know what the Cal Lightman package consists of." She cringed. Oh, that came out _so_ wrong.

Smiling at her sudden blush, his eyes still remained tentative. "Worn, battered and too much travelin' luv. You really think you know what you're gettin' into?"

"I love you Cal. It's been there a very long time, even when you're acting like…a plonker." Her hand had moved near his ear as she sifted it into the hair at his temple.

_Okay. Plonker. That was damned cute_. His smile broadened.

Pulling the corner of her upper lip into her mouth, she nibbled on it nervously, blue eyes continuing to search his face. Her hand dropped from his face but landed on his knee. She didn't move it.

_Amazing. She actually thinks that _I'm_ going to reject _her_._ Theoretically he knew that he actually should, but he wasn't a strong enough man for that. Not anymore, not when everything had come out of hiding. His heart was swelling and pumping rapidly, emotions taking him over physically as well as mentally. She was _all_ he wanted. _Everything _he wanted.

He disentangled his hand from hers and before her frown completely appeared, he had both hands on either side of her face. His gaze was now intense. "Is this what you want Gillian?"

Was it? Of course. But it was still difficult to shake the fear. She was so damned confused. She'd wanted him to remember, was angry that he initially hadn't and now that he did, all she could do was worry. What if it didn't work out? What if he hurt her? What if she hurt him? But then wasn't that _any_ relationship? Of course _any_ relationship didn't usually involve a shared business. Was that all of it though? Fear of happiness over a business? Seriously? It was, in fact, a consideration but it wasn't the end all and be all. They loved one another. Were in fact, in love. Wasn't that worth taking the chance? Wasn't that better than living a life of should of, could of, would of?

Cal watched the myriad of emotions flicker across her face but there was one constant that remained. The one constant that made his heart beat even faster and threatened a profound sense of contentment. That was new. Contentment. Her love offered him contentment. The realization was almost overwhelming.

Not answering, she could only nod. Her emotions were threatening to close her throat as tears welled.

Smirking, his eyes were tender. "Sure?"

"Mmhm." Just the simple verbal acknowledgement broke her resolve and the tears were now running down her cheeks.

Catching a couple of them with his thumbs, he wiped them away before his hands moved to her upper arms and pulled her into a firm embrace. One palm cradled the back of her head, while the other rubbed her back. "Is this a good thing luv? We just agreed to attempt a relationship, I…think, and I already have you bawlin'."

Laughing through her tears, she wrapped both arms around his neck, her body firm against his. "Don't make a habit of it."

"Do my best darlin'." He rocked her, enjoying the feel of her, despite the fact that she was getting his shirt all wet. She'd always been very emotional. Some guys might be intimidated but he'd always found it endearing. She felt so much, so deeply. Her heart was huge.

The timbre of her sobbing made a shift as she clung to him. He held her close, recognizing the change, recognizing the sudden need to mourn. She wasn't mourning Finn naturally, just what he'd done, the decision he'd forced her to make. She wept for what happened and what almost happened to herself, to Cal. She wept for that little piece of herself that was forever gone.

All he could do was be there and hope it would be enough. If it wasn't, he'd do everything in his power to make it okay. Or at least as okay as it would ever get.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her head and held on even tighter.


	24. Chapter 24

He continued to hold her close, stroking her hair and murmuring softly. They sat together for many long moments as her sobs gradually lessened and stopped.

Finally, she pulled away, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. "I'm sorry Cal."

"Nothin' to be sorry for." She seemed slightly embarrassed and he frowned as a result. She didn't need to feel that way around him.

"I'm a psychologist. I should be able to handle this better."

Shaking his head, he touched one finger under her chin before gently running it along her jaw line. "Being a psychologist doesn't usually put you in the trenches darlin'. You're a person first. A very strong one but you can't expect to be able to pull yourself through this on your own. It's too much to ask." His eyes were so tender that she almost started to cry all over but managed to hold back.

"I know. I'm just not sure I'm ready to talk to someone _else_ just yet." Gillian sniffled again, shifting to pull her legs under her.

"I'm not goin' anywhere. I'll be here as much as you need me."

She nodded gratefully. "I mean, there's so many horrible thoughts and feelings. With everything welling up inside me, it's hard to even imagine how _you_ got through this kind of thing on your own."

With a sigh, his eyes dropped just in time to see her hand wrap itself around his again. "I didn't have a choice. I was a scared kid and didn't have any resources or support to mean anythin'. My mum was gone, dad was who the hell knows where. Had my mates, but it wasn't like I was gonna share. Not the touchy feely sort, any of us. Colin just wanted to forget the whole thing, not that I could blame him really."

"You saved his life."

"Just a given luv. We watched one another's backs. That's how it was."

"What was I saying about loyalty…?" She almost smiled.

"To a fault." He squeezed her hand, once again noticing how soft her skin was. "Um, not to veer too far away from the subject, but are you hungry at all? I think I could use somethin' to mop up your fine bourbon if I want to stand upright anytime soon."

"You're not going to blame everything we said tonight on booze are you?" Gillian's voice was teasing but it didn't reach her eyes. She was honestly worried.

Blinking, he hadn't even considered that she would think that. _Damnit. Of course she would think that. _He was such an idiot sometimes. Cal leaned forward, one hand weaving its way into her hair and the other cradling her cheek. "Absolutely not. I wouldn't drive, mind you, but I am lucid enough to know exactly what I said…and I meant every word of it." He eyes delved into hers, intent upon making her believe him.

He seemed a little bleary but his expression was completely earnest. He was telling the truth.

This time, she did manage a smile. "That's good news. I don't think I could stand going backward again."

"Not gonna happen." His eyes were still locked on hers as he leaned a little closer.

Cal's breath was warm and tinged with the smell of bourbon. As her mood made a tiny shift, she wondered how he'd taste. Just like bourbon or would there be something else? What had it been like in the cabin? The memory had been sharp with fear but she couldn't quite remember his flavor. A detail that somehow got lost along the way. She remembered how he smelled and felt though. Thinking about the previous night, she reminisced of how smooth and taut the skin of his back, chest and belly had felt under her hands. He had smelled very masculine. Lingering aftershave, soap and deodorant, but underneath, he had his own scent. And she liked it. A lot.

Her hand reached up lightly combed through his hair. "You sure?"

"No more doubt from either one of us, luv. I'm done with it." He gazed at her, noting the slightly pink face and swollen eyes from crying. Her hair was a little mussed and she was only dressed in sweats and a t-shirt but she was still gorgeous. Pausing for only a moment, he pulled her toward him and softly kissed her. There was nothing seductive about it. It was sweet and gentle, just reaffirming his love and support.

Moving away a tiny bit, he searched her face, thumbs caressing her cheeks.

Gillian's eyes were only partially open. It was obvious that she was tired but he was still pleased to see a slight dilation of her pupils and a tiny bit of hunger. She wanted him and the feeling was most certainly reciprocal. Last night was still emblazoned upon his brain. He could still feel her feather light touches and warm mouth against his skin. It had been quite the struggle to be good. Now, as he watched her, noting the flushed skin and slow licking of the lips, he knew he might be in for a similar struggle. But he was up for it, damnit. She needed him, yes, but right now she didn't need him in her bed.

Gillian moved toward him and touched her lips to his. It was initially tentative like his had been but when he started to return the sentiment, the pressure of her mouth became a little firmer.

_Uh oh._

One hand cradled his face while the other looped around his neck. His somehow found their way around her, dropping to the small of her back and firmly sealing her body against his. Her mouth parted open as she began to tease his lips and tongue with her own. A low growl escaped him as he moved to take control but it quickly changed to a moan as she challenged him. He started to pull her onto his lap as their lips continued to assault, please and tantalize. It was hot and wet and amazing and Cal began to feel a stirring before he backed off, his breathing harsh.

Her chest rose and fell in rhythm with his as they stared at one another, eyes wide.

"Wow." It was barely a gasp.

He was less articulate and made a noise close to uh huh, but not quite. Cal was fairly certain that his brain might be melting around the edges thanks to that kiss. _Holy shit_.

They stared for another beat before smiles flickered and caught, followed by her giggle and his chuckle.

"I guess that there proves we have chemistry darlin'." He stroked her hair once again, loving the feel of it sifting through his fingers.

Her head was currently spinning wildly. _Oh my God_. Her whole body was now flushed and trembling and it was still only a kiss. But wow. What a kiss. "Um…yeah." It was her turn to mush up her words.

Clearing his throat, he shifted to lessen his slight physical discomfort. "What were we…?"

She couldn't remember. What the heck had they been saying before?

"Food."

Yeah. That among other things.

"Delivery would be good." He started to push himself up, felt the bourbon swell and wrap around his already melting brain before he abruptly sat back down. "Right here to the couch would be even better, cause my ass is slightly inebriated."

"Just your ass?" She couldn't resist as she baited him with a teasing smile.

Cal's eyes darkened again. "Best to be careful luv. I may not be responsible for my actions after that kiss."

"Is that a promise?"

_Once again_, _holy shit_. He gaped at her.

She let him off the hook and easily hopped out of the cushions to pad toward the kitchen. "What'll it be?"

"Your call luv cause I can't get my brain to work at the moment."

She could have zinged him again but decided against it. It was too easy right now. Like shooting fish in a barrel. Besides, there was too much swirling around inside her that happily had nothing to do with Finn Bainbridge. The events of the last couple of days had currently been relegated into a small corner in the back of her mind to be replaced with a new fear. But the new fear was coupled with excitement. It had nothing to do with darkness and everything to do with her best friend and a new beginning.


	25. Chapter 25

_I have the best kid, hands down_.

Cal didn't want to leave Gillian just yet. He'd watched her waver between elation and despondency all evening and wasn't comfortable going home. Only problem was he didn't have any clothes at her place to mean anything and he'd had a bit too much to drink to fetch some himself.

Emily handed him the duffle bag in the entry. "How's she doing?" Her voice was low, dark eyes heavy with worry.

Cal gave a tiny sigh as he guided her further into Gillian's little house. "As well as can be expected luv. It was…difficult."

"What about you?"

"What _about_ me?"

She gave him a look, not unlike her mother. It basically read, _'don't bullshit me.'_

Catching her in a one-armed hug, he whispered. "I'm okay darlin'. Honestly don't remember a whole lot. Mostly feel awful that Gill had to go through it basically on her own."

Emily embraced her father, something in his voice making her hug him even harder. He clearly took all of the blame. "Dad, you can't put this all on yourself."

He was quiet for a moment before pulling away. She caught the sadness before he managed to tuck it away. "Maybe not all of it but I have to take a fair amount of the responsibility."

"You couldn't have known…"

"No, but I should have. I knew what I was dealin' with but decided to choose arrogance over caution. And look what happened."

"That might be true to some degree but you had no control over that family. They did what they did of their own free will. That guy was evil, his father just as much in his own way. It was inevitable that they'd eventually get theirs." She managed a tiny smile. "Karma, right?"

Cal didn't respond, just appraised the amazing amount of wisdom in someone so young. She certainly put him to shame most of the time.

"Beside, there's no guarantee that they wouldn't have gotten to you anyway." That was true. There most likely wouldn't have been 24-hour security due to the usual police budget constraints.

Emily suddenly looked beyond him. "Hi Gillian."

Cal pivoted on his heels. Gill had decided to take a shower and change into a different set of warm pajamas after they'd eaten. She still held onto the lines of fatigue but she seemed to feel better in the way that only a hot shower can accomplish.

The girl immediately went to her and wrapped her arms around her. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Gillian returned the hug, looking over Emily's head and into Cal's eyes. "Thank you honey. I'm fine." She rubbed the girl's back briefly before pulling away slightly. "Have you eaten? Would you like something?"

"No, no. I'm okay. Thanks. I just wanted to drop by and check in on my way to my mom's. I'm actually running a little late." Em's eyes dropped to her watch.

Her dad had requested that she go stay with her mom and although she had been tempted to balk, she decided to do him the favor, considering how the last couple of days had been for him.

Emily gave Gill another quick hug. "Guess I'd better head out. Take care and if you need anything, give me a call, okay?" Her dark eyes met Gillian's blue ones. "I'm serious. Dad had no trouble calling when he needed clothes and was too plastered to get them himself."

"Oi!" Cal frowned in annoyance. It was slightly feigned but not completely. He was probably just tired.

"I want you to feel just as free, okay? I'd like to help wherever I can."

As always, Gillian was sincerely touched by Cal's daughter. She really was an amazing girl. "Thank you Emily. I appreciate it."

She nodded. "I am serious you know."

"I know honey."

Emily gave her another quick hug, wished her good night and headed for the door. She slipped out into the night with Cal following closely behind.

"Is she really okay? I mean, _is_ she going to be okay?" They were leaning against the driver's side of the car as Emily looked up into her father's face, searching.

"I…" His mouth twisted slightly to the side. "I think so, yeah. It just might take a bit. She did what she needed to do, but that doesn't it mean it was easy."

Emily shuddered as a chill swept through her. God. The idea of killing someone, even someone as foul as Finn Bainbridge, had to take its toll. "It's just so hard to wrap your head around it. Gillian's such a gentle person."

"She is luv, but she was pushed into a corner. She was afraid for herself, afraid for me. Calvary was comin' but we had no way of knowin' that. They may not have arrived in time anyway." He paused, his eyes shifting beyond his daughter to a place she had no idea and never would have any idea about. "I'm just sorry it had to be her."

Emily studied him, instinctively knowing the depth of his feelings for Gill. He would have sacrificed himself for her, of that the girl had little doubt. The realization was a little overwhelming. As it was, _Gillian_ was the one to forfeit a piece of herself for both of them.

She went up on her toes to give Cal a quick pick. "I should go. Mom's waiting. Just remember to give me a call."

"You bet luv."

"Take care dad." Her eyes went above and beyond and told him to take care of Gill as well.

"Will do darlin'. You be careful drivin'. No texting."

Her eye roll was followed by a smile. "Love you."

"Love you too."

_**(BREAK) **_

"You have an amazing daughter."

"Yeah, don't I know it?" He locked the door behind him and looked at her closely. "She's concerned for you."

"She doesn't have to be. I'm okay." Gillian stepped close and right into a hug, loving the solid, comforting feel of him. His arms were firmly around her as he pressed a kiss into her hairline.

"Correction. You're gonna be okay and I'm gonna do whatever I can to make sure of it, even if it means swiping your little black book to look up the numbers for all your shrink friends." His tone was light, but the undercurrent was very serious.

She was quiet for a moment as she nestled into his shoulder. "You just need to let me determine when it's time though, okay?"

Cal pulled back, scrutinizing her face before nodding. "Okay, luv. When you're ready." He kissed her softly as her eyes closed.

_**(BREAK)**_

_She could hear him calling her through the fog and mist but his voice seemed to grow weaker and change direction constantly. All she knew was that he needed her and she had absolutely no idea how to find him. Moving through the trees, she caught her ankles in the thick undergrowth more than once but managed not to fall. But as soon as she thought she was heading the right way, his voice would suddenly appear to come from the opposite direction. Each shift, it seemed to grow dimmer. She was losing him. If she didn't find him soon, she would lose him forever. As she stumbled forward, she became aware of moisture on her hands. Stopping, she frowned down at them. The bright moonlight above reflected through the ground mist and as she stared, she realized that her hands were red. The moisture became sticky and with horror, she realized that it was blood. But she knew it wasn't her own. With a gasp, she stumbled backward, colliding with an evergreen, feeling the bark scratch at her palms._

_ A dark figure moved from behind another thick copse of trees. She couldn't see who it was but when it spoke, a sharp chill ran through her. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest as she turned in an attempt to get away._

_ "Where are you going Gillian? The deed's already been done. You don't need to run anymore."_

_ She backed away, hands out, trying to keep her balance. "Why wouldn't I run? You want to kill us both."_

_ "No no no." His tone was sympathetic. "I don't want to kill you Gillian. Why would I? You did me such a great favor."_

_ "Favor?" It occurred to her that she couldn't hear his voice any longer. It seemed to have faded away. Terror caused her to momentarily freeze. "What are you talking about?"_

_ Finn stepped closer, the mist shifting away from him, as if in reverence. He was smiling in that shark like way of his. "You don't remember? What a shame."_

_ The terror was coupling with anger now. "Tell me! What are you talking about?"_

_ "Oh Gillian. It was beautiful. The knife went in so easily didn't it? Like you were just born to do it. But go figure, you don't remember so the punch line is lost. That sure is a shame." He stepped closer and she could only stare. Every muscle in her body seemed to be frozen._

_ Finn was now before her, his teeth white and glowing. He reached toward her and she suddenly felt him remove something from her right hand. She didn't remember holding anything but her eyes fell to it nonetheless as he held it out as an offering._

_ A mother of pearl pocketknife lay loosely in his hand. The slender blade was coated in dark red, turning brown as she watched. "Do you remember now Gillian?"_

_ "No." Her voice had no strength._

_ "Hmmm…maybe you should come take a look then." His other hand took hers as he led her through the woods. "He should be…right around…"_

_ "WHO?" Her sharp voice scared a few birds from the trees. She stopped abruptly, stepping back and pulling away. This time her feet did catch in something but it wasn't undergrowth. As she fell, she became aware that she'd fallen over someone. Someone familiar. As she lay crumpled on the forest floor, her anguished screams began to echo through the trees and the fog._

Gillian sat up quickly, her breath rasping, her face coated in slick sweat. Her heart was beating so wildly that she immediately felt nausea rise within. Kicking the covers back, she stumbled and made it to the bathroom just in time. She threw up the previous night's dinner and whatever alcohol hadn't been absorbed. She threw up until all that was left were repetitive and cruel dry heaves. Resting her head against the cool porcelain, she had a distinct sense of déjà vu. Didn't this happen yesterday too? At this rate, she was never going to keep anything down. With a groan, she flushed and climbed to her feet to stumble to the sink. Avoiding her own eyes, she rinsed her mouth before just hanging her head forward in an attempt to quiet her heartbeat and breathing.

Cal was right. She couldn't drag her feet with this. Some calls needed to be made whether she thought she was ready or not.

Straightening, she washed her face before turning the light back off and walking out of the bathroom and back toward her bed. The clock on the nightstand blinked 2:34 at her. _Hours_ to go before dawn. She hesitated for only a moment before changing direction and leaving her bedroom.

She made a right down the hallway before stopping at the closed door to the guestroom and listening. It was quiet. Grasping the knob, she turned it slowly and quietly stepped inside. Cal was asleep, on his side, facing her. She could now hear his soft breathing and immediately took comfort from it. Without further hesitation, she slipped under the covers to nestle close to him. A tiny little sigh escaped her as her heart rate slowly returned to normal.

Even in slumber, he instinctively curled himself protectively around her.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: As of this month, I've been writing "Lie to Me" fanfiction for a year now. I just wanted to thank all of you for your readership, reviews and support. It wouldn't have been as much fun without you!**_


	26. Chapter 26

Cal automatically wrapped his arms more securely around the soft figure nestled next to him before opening his eyes, slightly confused.

Gillian.

Even though he'd had a decent amount to drink last night he was fairly certain that they'd still retired to separate rooms.

His eyes flitted around only to determine that he was, in fact, still where he started. She'd come into the guest room, the guest _bed_, to be with him. Sleepwalking maybe? After her experience it wouldn't be completely outside the realm of possibility.

Very gently he attempted to disentangle himself but she held on, one leg crooked over his, one hand crossing his chest and holding securely to his opposite shoulder. Even in sleep, she had no intention of letting go of him. He wondered what the catalyst might have been.

Cal didn't even try to escape again. Knowing that he might very well be playing with fire, he decided to enjoy the moment, enjoy the feeling of her body against his. He could smell her hair as it lay spread across him. Her lips were partially open and he could feel her slow, warm breath against his chest through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. She looked so young and vulnerable in her sleep. A huge part of him wanted to kiss those pale pink lips but knew better. If he started, he may not stop.

Letting out a sigh, Gillian stretched, her knee brushing against the inside of his thigh making him blink hard and clench his teeth. She pressed herself against him once again as she resettled. He let his breath out slowly and went back to gazing at her.

A moment later, her eyes cracked open and blearily met his.

"Hey there." His greeting was soft.

She blinked at him as embarrassment flickered and she pushed up into a sitting position. "Sorry. I know it's a small bed."

"S'okay darlin'. Nice way to awaken." He smirked for a moment before it fell away. "Somethin' happen?"

A tiny fragment of fear had followed on the tail of her embarrassment and despite the early hour, it may as well have flashed at him in neon.

"No, not really. It's just…"

"Nightmares?"

Gillian nodded, her heart accelerating as her mind maliciously recalled all the details of the dream. "It seems silly now that it's daylight but the feelings were a bit overwhelming earlier."

He just watched, absently bringing a hand up to lightly rub her upper arm. She'd talk to him or she wouldn't. He wasn't going to press.

"My subconscious twisted everything around." Her eyes dropped to his t-shirt, marginally amused to find Johnny Rotten sneering at her but wishing she could completely eradicate the despair she'd felt in the early hours of the morning. The dream had brought one of her greatest fears relentlessly to the forefront. "I…" She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I think I'm going to make some calls today."

Cal continued to rub her arm before moving to the side of her neck so his thumb could gently stroke the underside of her jaw. A tremble passed through her and he immediately stopped, suddenly uncertain. "I'm glad luv. Important to talk with someone other than me." His voice was a little strained and he started to allow his hand to drop but she caught it in hers and held it in place. Gillian met his eyes yet again.

He felt his blood pressure begin to creep upward, very aware of her proximity, very aware that they were sharing the same bed yet again. Sweat began to bead along his hairline as his breath shallowed out.

Their eye contact continued to hold as every muscle in his body tensed. _This is_ _not a good idea_. She'd been through so much and didn't need to the pressure of a new relationship being thrown into the mix.

He watched as her pupils swelled and a flush began to spread across the freckles on her cheeks.

_No, no, no. He'd be taking advantage. She wasn't ready._

Gillian's eyes flitted over Cal's face, seeing his indecision and struggle and feeling sorry for him. She understood as she struggled herself. It was really early. They had a lot to work through. Right now, sex was an inherently bad idea. But, oh my God, how she wanted him. It was as if the very admission of romantic love had opened the floodgate, making all their previous relationship part of the foreplay to this very moment. They'd actually been together for years. They just hadn't admitted it to themselves or one another. The fingers of her other hand sifted through his hair, nails scraping lightly as they continued to hold one another's eyes. "You're such a good man."

Muscles in his face twitched. "If that were the case I wouldn't be having the thoughts that I am."

A smile played upon her lips. "And what thoughts would those be?"

He didn't answer as the hand just below her jaw gently crept around to the back of her neck, fingers massaging the muscles there. Her head automatically fell forward, eyes closing as he worked to remove some of her nightmare tension. "That feels good."

"Mmm." Sitting up, he shifted himself behind her and concentrated on the muscles of her neck, before moving to her shoulders and back. If she wasn't facing him, she wouldn't be able to read the lust that he was having one hell of a time disguising. He alternated between firm pressure, circular motions and gentle kneading, knowing that it would relax her and possibly make her temporarily forget all that had occurred. Massage was something he was really good at. _Often led to things that he was equally good at_. No, that was not the point this time. It was hard not to be disgusted with himself at the moment. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his mind from digressing. The soft skin of her neck, the firm muscles of her shoulders, her obvious lack of a bra. _Jesus._

A tiny groan escaped her. "Wow. You've got talented hands."

_She had no idea._

Cal cleared his throat. "Is it workin'?"

"Hmmm?"

"Relaxed?"

"You keep it up and I'm going to fall back to sleep."

He smirked. Brushing the hair back from her neck, he leaned forward and impulsively kissed the soft skin there. "Why don't you lay down before you fall down?" Once again, he was playing with fire. But it was okay. He could do this. The massage was relaxing her. She deserved it, in fact, she _needed_ it.

Without a word, she moved to lie down on her belly and cuddled the pillow in her arms. "Do your worst." Her eyes were slipping closed again.

"You got it luv." Attempting a more businesslike approach and ignoring the stirrings below the waist, he again went to work, isolating and kneading. His hands were going to be cramping any time now but it was fine.

Another low groan escaped her making him wince and grit his teeth. _No, no, no._ This was fine. He was a mature man, well, he was _grown up_ at the very least. He had loads of control.

"Am I torturing you?" Her voice was slightly muffled against the pillow.

"No darlin'. 'Course not."

"Liar."

He chuckled, despite the tension. "Okay. You got me. Maybe a little."

"I'm sorry." She really sounded it.

"No luv, don't be sorry. It's fine. I'm a big boy."

"Thank you Cal." She was sounding drowsy as he smiled to himself.

"No worries."

A moment later, her breathing was soft and regular once again.

Slowly, he crawled off his side of the bed, pausing to allow his eyes to soak her in before heading out of the room and down the hallway.


	27. Chapter 27

**_A slightly M-ish chapter. Just being safe in sayin'._**

* * *

><p>Gillian rolled onto her side, eyes fluttering open just as Cal nudged his way into the bedroom, tray in hands. Placing it on the nightstand, he carefully sat on the edge of the bed, eyes warm.<p>

"Hey sleepyhead." A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

She blinked at him, initially confused before awareness sunk in. He'd obviously showered and changed, his hair still damp. She caught the scent of his aftershave and deodorant and subtly tried to breath a little more of it in. God he smelled good. "What time is it?"

"Bit after ten."

Sitting up quickly, she looked at him in alarm. "Why did you let me sleep so late?"

His smirk changed to a slight frown. "Why wouldn't I? You obviously needed it."

"We need to get to work!"

"Um, no, _we_ don't need to do anythin'. _I'm_ gonna go in, make sure the kids didn't torch the place and see what we have on the docket. Accordin' to Loker, there are a couple cases brewin' but the clients are waiting to talk to one of us personally."

"Cal, I'm going in too."

"Uh uh. I can take care of it." He looked at her closely, noting the fatigue that still seemed to pinch her face despite the extra sleep. His voice lowered. "Besides, I thought you were gonna make a couple of calls."

_She'd said that hadn't she? _As she stared into his stubborn but concerned eyes, she allowed a tiny sigh. He was right. She needed to take a few steps. Now that she was awake, her earlier nightmare had already begun to insinuate its way into the front of her mind setting off a tiny tremor.

Of course Cal noticed and was quick to bring a warm hand to her shoulder, rubbing lightly. His smile was reassuring. "Before I head out, I'd feel honored if you would at least _try_ to eat some of the breakfast I lovingly prepared for you."

As if on cue, her stomach gave a low rumble and Cal's smile widened. "We have scrambled eggs, cooked with my own special blend of seasonings, sausage that I make no claim to cause I just found it in your fridge, whole wheat toast with real butter, coffee with enough sugar to put most people into a coma, juice and some lovely fresh strawberries that I stole from your crisper."

Genuinely touched, her eyes flickered over the meal he'd brought to her, hoping she'd be able to keep some of it down. "It looks lovely. Thank you."

"Not leavin' til I see you eat."

"You're being silly."

He stuck his lower jaw out slightly in defiance but his eyes were teasing. "Am not."

With a slight eye roll, she reached over to take the plate of eggs and sausage. "Aren't you eating anything?"

"Already did luv." _Sort of_.

She took a bite of eggs, chewed, swallowed and looked at him skeptically. "Really? What did you eat?" She picked up a single sausage and delicately chewed on it.

"Tea." The response was sheepish.

"That's it?"

"Not a huge breakfast person."

Finishing her sausage, she stabbed some more eggs and brought them to his lips. "Open."

Narrowing his eyes, he just looked at her. "Told you, I-" She took advantage and shoved a wad into his mouth. He chewed and glared.

Smiling, she took another forkful before once again sharing with him, watching as his expression morphed from feigned annoyance to amusement.

"Cal, you know I'm still planning on going in."

"Uh uh."

She pressed her lips together, appreciating his concern but becoming a little aggravated nonetheless. "Look, all I'm going to do today is continually run things around in my head. I _need_ to keep myself busy. Otherwise…" Gillian didn't want to feel like she was going crazy and that's exactly what would happen.

Dubious, he cocked an eyebrow.

"And you'd be exactly the same way." Her blue eyes met his, sensing a shift within. "You couldn't just hang around your house all day. You'd need to keep busy too. Keep your mind off things."

Sighing, he unconsciously acknowledged her truth. He _wouldn't_ be able to sit still. It would be torturous.

Reaching over to the tray, she grabbed a strawberry to take a tiny mouse-like nibble, running her tongue over her lips to catch the sweet juice. She watched as he swallowed his eggs before openly staring at her mouth, obviously watching the movement of her tongue.

Cal suddenly felt like he had been sucking on cotton balls as he watched her delicately chew on the strawberry, tongue moving to catch any trace of juice or pulp. She knew what she was doing. _Jesus_. She _had_ to know what she was doing.

"Mmmm. These are really sweet!" She smiled at him. "You should try one." She reached over and plucked another from the tray and moved it toward him, waiting until he opened his mouth. He did so, reluctantly, and she placed it inside. Cal quickly closed his mouth, catching her thumb and finger between his lips and giving them a quick caress with his tongue. His eyes were now intent upon hers as she lowered her hand.

"Good aren't they?" Her voice had become a little breathy.

He chewed slowly before answering. "Yeah, darlin', they are." The hazel eyes darkened and dropped to her mouth again.

"Want some more?" Gillian stared at him, heart beginning to pound in her ears. She really wondered what the hell she was doing. She was openly tantalizing him and couldn't seem to help herself.

Cal scooted a little closer and picked up another berry, offering her a bite and watching as her white teeth sunk into the flesh. He then proceeded to pop the rest into his own mouth and saw her gaze drop to his lips before bouncing back up to his eyes. Arousal and excitement shone in her dilating pupils.

_Ah hell._

He removed the plate from her lap and placed it back on the tray. "You know what you're doin' to me?" His accent was thick and gravelly.

"I have an idea."

"We shouldn't be doing this."

"I know."

His hand had reached up and gently clasped around the back of her neck before slowly pulling her closer to him. "So much to work through."

"I know." Her voice was just below a whisper.

Her face was now inches from his. He could smell the strawberries on her breath. "Gillian, I…I don't want to fuck this up."

"You're not." Her hand was up against his smooth cheek.

With an almost pained expression, he quickly brought her those last couple of inches and pressed his lips tightly to hers, immediately pushing his tongue past her teeth as he passionately explored the inside of her mouth, trembling as she connected and explored as well.

Fisting her hands in his shirt, she pulled him forward until his body lay partially on top of hers, partially to the side. The kiss deepened even more, taking on a frenzy of intensity that overwhelmed both of them. He moved away from her lips to plant hot, wet kisses down her throat to her collarbone, one hand still in her hair, the other pushing down her pajama top at the shoulder so he could continue his oral assault.

Her arms wrapped securely around him as one hand found its way under his t-shirt to touch the soft, firm skin of his lower back, racking lightly with her short nails and feeling him shudder as a result. She brazenly moved one leg over his hip to further cradle his body against hers.

Tasting the flavor of sugar and salt on her skin, he moved back to her lips, kissing her deeply as his hand moved just under the hem of her top, fingers grazing upon her flat belly before sliding up her rib cage. She pushed back, arching against him and enthusiastically returning the kiss and nibbling on his lower lip before swabbing it with her tongue, feeling more than hearing the moan that he emitted. She could also feel him swell through her thin pajama bottoms as heat spread through her, her respiration becoming fast and shallow, her need close to primal.

The one hand that was exploring under her top gently cupped her breast while the other stayed laced in her hair, locking her to him. His lips were frantically tracing all the smooth curves of her face. He was aware of her own dexterous hands moving over his own body, one hooking in his waistband millimeters from his arousal.

Realization was a bucket of cold water and he suddenly pulled away, eyes tortured, breath rasping painfully in his throat. "_God_ Gillian, I'm sorry." His hand quickly snaked out from under her top, pulling it down gently to cover her exposed flesh. He moved to get up but she caught him by the upper arm. Her face held so much, it was dizzying. Love, disappointment, hurt, understanding, anger and…relief. They both knew they weren't ready but everything was a powder keg right now just waiting for a tiny flicker of flame to set things into irreversible motion.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, heavy emotion catching in his throat.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about." Her voice and eyes were tender as she touched his face once again.

"It's not time."

"I know." Her fingers continued to gently caress his face as his eyes half closed for a moment.

"I love you Gill. I don't want to hurt you." _Anymore_. He didn't say the last bit but they both heard it in his pleading voice.

Her lips curved into a tiny smile as tears rimmed her eyes. "You _are_ a good man and I've been hoping to hear those words for a very long time." She swallowed, trying to control the flair of emotion. "Just didn't know it for a while."

Cal's eyes continued to delve into hers, intense but pained.

"I do love you too. Sometimes so much it staggers me." She moved upward and kissed him again. But this time it wasn't a tease. It was soft, tender and full of honesty and she smiled against his lips as she felt him return it. "I'm just sorry that it took us almost dying to get here."

"It's all done luv." He gently kissed her eyelids. "We can slowly go forward now."

"Is that a promise?"

"Yeah."

"Cal?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'm still going in to work today."

He kissed her forehead. "I know."


	28. Chapter 28

_The blood was everywhere. It had splattered all over the front of her dress, up against her neck and to the underside of her jaw. Droplets currently clung thickly to her cheeks as well._

_ The knife was slick in her hand. It should have threatened to drop as her body shook uncontrollably, but it didn't. The weapon seemed glued to her skin._

_ No. This wasn't happening._

_ "But it is Gillian." Finn stood several feet away, his white teeth bared in an animalistic greeting, his hands in the pockets of his overcoat. "How did it feel?"_

_ She shook her head, knowing that she couldn't currently form words, knowing that it didn't even matter. He seemed to be reading her thoughts._

_ "Empowering isn't it?" He stepped closer. Oddly enough, he made no noise. The floor of the forest should have announced him but it was silent. Not a single rustle or crack of a dry branch._

_ "Go away."_

_ "No Gillian. You don't want that." He stopped a few feet away, looking down at her. "You need guidance. Especially now." _

_ "What are you talking about?"_

_ He blinked, tilting his head slightly. "You're all alone you silly woman. He's gone. You killed him."_

_ Her eyes wide, she stared up at him. There was another presence near her but she hadn't allowed her mind to wrap itself around the knowledge. It was attempting to protect her from the truth but Finn was now pointing it out with another flash of his canines._

_ "Look Gillian. You have to look or you won't accept the truth of what you've done…or what you are."_

_ "No."_

_The smile fell away as anger twisted through the man's features. "Look… or I'll _make_ you look." His words were soft but filled with malice._

_ "I…can't." _

_ He was suddenly behind her, his fingers cruelly digging in to the back of her neck. "You can." _

_ Twisting, she tried to move away, her shock subsiding as she started to cry. She squeezed her eyes shut._

_ Finn was unrelenting. He crouched next to her, his face close enough that she could feel his hot breath. "Look Gillian! God damnit, look!" Shaking her roughly, he tried to push her head down. "Open your eyes and look!" He was screaming in her ear now._

_ Her eyes barely cracked open just before the wail erupted from her throat._

_**(BREAK)**_

The scream died on her lips as her eyes flew open to familiar surroundings.

One hand gently cradled the side of her face, while another rubbed her arm. "You okay?" His voice was just a murmur.

She wildly looked around before she fastened her gaze on Cal, the warmth and concern on his face immediately calming her. Taking a deep breath, she ran a trembling hand over her face before nodding. The disorientation was passing as her memory kicked in. That's right. She'd gone into work with him, hit a wall of fatigue in the middle of the afternoon and crashed out on the couch in his study. The nightmare had been waiting for her though, skulking in the depths of her mind and looking for a weak moment.

"Did you make an appointment?" His eyes were searching hers.

"Um…"

He let out a sigh but continued to rub her arm. "You, of all people, know how important this is." A tiny smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sure you don't want _me_ to pick a shrink for you, 'cause I will if I have to."

"Please don't." Gillian pulled herself into a sitting position as he rocked back on his heels. "I will. I promise."

"Uh huh."

"Really."

"Okay." Cal pushed himself up and lowered himself onto the couch next to her. "Do it now and I'll drive you myself."

"Now?" She opened her mouth to contest.

"Now." His arm had looped around her shoulders, pulling her into him. "Nightmares pretty bad, yeah?"

She paused as a tremor passed through her. "Yeah."

"Then what are you waitin' for?"

Shaking her head wordlessly, her eyes dropped to her hands and watched them tremble. Clasping them together, she unconsciously dug her nails in, forming little half moons.

"I know how hard it is darlin'." His lips were against her ear. "But you have this option. You have what I didn't have." She closed her eyes, feeling his kiss on her temple. "Please talk to someone."

Turning, she opened her eyes and caught his gaze, seeing the sadness and torment lurking in the hazel depths. It made her heart break just a little and she found herself nodding. "I'll go back to my office and look a couple of people up. I'm sure I can call in some favors."

The little smile didn't quite reach his eyes but he leaned forward and softly kissed her, paused and kissed her again, feeling her fingers thread through his hair. Years of furtive glances, submerged feelings pent up behind a now crumbling dam made his need almost painful. "Love you." The more he said it, the easier it became, the more he wanted to say it.

"Love you too." Her voice was soft against his lips.

"I'd better go." He made no move to do so. "The bane of Loker's existence is waiting for me." Cal kissed her again regardless, this time a little harder. She returned it, a little tremble running through her and this time it wasn't from fear.

With difficulty, she pulled her lips away and gave him a gentle push. "Go talk to Mrs. Douglas before Loker rams his head into the nearest wall."

"Might be worth it." He lowered his mouth to her neck and she gave a low gasp.

"Cal…" Gillian's voice was barely a whisper but still held a thread of warning.

"Okay, fine." He moved away reluctantly. "Let me take care of this and you do what you need to do." His gaze became insistent.

She nodded slowly, watching him as he turned and slipped out the pocket door that separated his study from his office.

_**(BREAK)**_

When the phone rang he answered without thought, expecting Emily to be checking in with him. Instead it was a slightly raspy voice that was instantly familiar. Cal stopped in the middle of the hallway, almost causing a pileup of employees who were scurrying to and fro. They darted around him, used to his erratic behavior.

"Dr. Lightman?"

Cal's throat felt dry as anger rose in the back like bile. "Is there a reason you're callin' me?"

"I wanted to speak with you."

"Now why would _I_ want that?"

Bainbridge Senior hadn't expected anything different. He knew he didn't have any right to any kind of courtesy. "How is Dr. Foster?"

"How do you _think_ she is?" Cal snapped. "As much as I'm enjoying this little chat, I have things to do."

"I wanted to apologize."

Cal almost dropped the phone before his fingers curled around it so tightly he felt that he might crush it. He didn't say anything.

"I wanted to apologize for my poor judgment."

"Are you fuckin' serious?" Cal's voice was a low hiss. "You hire some goons to abduct and drug me to keep me from testifying and then you practically plate Foster and me up to your psycho son and you're _apologizing_?" He fought the sudden urge to laugh. The idea of what this old man was saying was so absurd.

"That wasn't supposed to happen."

"_Really? _You've been protecting your rabid dog of a son for years and it never occurred to you it was eventually goin' to hit the fan? It never occurred to you that _eventually_ he was goin' to have to pay for the things he'd done? I tell ya, if you had just allowed me to testify and put him away in the first place, he wouldn't have paid with his life."

This time the old man was quiet for several long moments before he spoke again. "I make no claim to say that everything I did was right. In fact it's quite the opposite. But I will say this: Finn was my _son_. My flesh and blood. As a father, all I wanted was for him to be successful and happy but early on I knew there was something wrong. He was never going to be the son that I wanted him to be. Nonetheless, he was still _my child._ I know you're a father as well. What would you have done in my place? Would you have done everything you could to protect your daughter?"

"Protecting is one thing. Allowing them to make mistakes is one thing. But making excuses and turning a blind eye while your child purposely hurts others is an entirely different matter. The blood that Finn spilled in not just on his hands but on yours as well."

Cal could hear rushed breathing on the other end as he waited.

"You're right Dr. Lightman. I know you're right, but it doesn't really matter anymore does it? My boy is dead and your colleague killed him. I think he had it coming…actually I _know_ he had it coming but the pain is…so intense. I can't even tell you, but it all falls back on me. I wake up several times a night shaking and in a cold sweat because of what I've done, what I've allowed to happen and I just wanted to say that I was sorry."

The old man was looking for closure and didn't know how else to go about it. Cal sighed heavily and leaned against the wall. A tiny part of him felt a pang of compassion but the anger and horror of what had occurred trumped it many times over. He couldn't give the old man what he needed. "Was there anythin' else you wanted Mr. Bainbridge?"

Cal heard an intake of breath before the tone of voice became one of deep regret. "Be well Dr. Lightman." With that the connection was broken.

He stared at his phone for a moment before sticking it back in his pocket. He really wished he'd never answered it.


	29. Chapter 29

"I have to say Cal that I'm quite impressed."

He frowned and cast a quick glance at her before turning his attention back to his driving. "Why's that?"

"It's been twenty-two minutes since my session and you haven't asked me a single question about it." Her smile was soft, teasing.

She'd been able to contact an old professor from grad school who had been very willing to help her and true to his word, Cal had driven her and waited patiently. Or at least she _thought_ he was patient. She hadn't caught any annoyance off the receptionist to tell her otherwise.

"I figure if you wanna tell me, you'll tell me."

_Huh._ Gillian wasn't sure if she should be concerned or not. He'd been a little distracted the last couple of days but hadn't offered any kind of explanation.

"Is everything okay Cal?" Dumb question. He was still dealing with the whole abduction as well. "I mean, is there anything else going on?"

His jaw throbbed as he clenched his teeth. He hadn't told her that Bainbridge had called him, figuring that she had enough on her plate. Bringing up the old man's name could just make things worse for her. "No, darlin'. I'm good." He offered a quick smile. "Really good actually, considering…" He gave a quick wave of his hand, intimating their fledgling relationship.

Studying him, her instincts told her that he was holding out but she really had no reason to talk. She had yet to be forthright about her own feeling and nightmares, at least not completely. The dream was so vivid, so biting, that the prospect of sharing it with him scared the hell out of her. Almost like if she voiced it to him, something could happen to make it come true. Which was completely ridiculous, but she couldn't help it. Almost like a child worrying that being disrespectful to the monsters under the bed and in the closet would give them more power, make them more real.

"Where are we going anyway?" She looked out the window before casting him a questioning look.

"Thought maybe I should feed you."

"I see. Well, you thought correctly then." Gillian smiled, eyes roaming his profile. "You have something in mind?"

"Yup."

"Going to share?"

"Nope."

"Is there some kind of occasion?"

They'd stopped at a light, so he was able to shift his penetrating gaze onto her as she blinked in surprise. "Do _you_ think there's somethin' to celebrate?"

Quiet filled the interior of the car as they regarded one another. She swallowed as her heart accelerated. "I believe so." Her voice was soft as his eyes shifted to a smile.

"Same here darlin'."

The light changed and he guided the car expertly through the D.C. traffic before finding his turn off and lucking into a close parking space. He cut the engine and turned to her. "Bored with Chinese food. Though somethin' different might be in order considerin' that we _are_ kind of celebratin'." He hopped out and moved around her side to open the door for her before taking her hand with flourish.

"Wow. What a gentleman." Her smile was bright as she attempted to push away the recent past and try to concentrate on the future.

"Once in a while. Don't let it get out though. It might tarnish my rep." One hand found the small of her back as he propelled her toward the front of the restaurant.

"Oh! I haven't had Cuban food in ages!" She whirled toward him, her lips brushing his cheek. "You think they have Tres Leches?"

"Would I dare take you somewhere where they didn't?" The hand skimmed over her back and hooked around her waist, bringing her closer. "Not only do they have traditional Tres Leches here but I do believe they may very well have one with chocolate too."

Cal watched her eyes brighten even more and quickly decided he could easily watch her expressions forever. Maybe they _really_ did have a shot at a future together.

_**(BREAK)**_

"That was wonderful. Thank you."

He was walking her up the path to her front door as the night pressed in around them. It had become warmer as spring firmly settled in but neither looked forward to the humidity that the season would bring.

"Quite welcome."

They stopped at the front step as Gillian swung around to face him. "Would you like to come in for a few minutes?" The question was almost shy.

_God yes. I want to spend the night again and make love to you until the sun begins to peak up over the horizon._ Instead he hung back. "I really should get back to Em before she forgets what I look like."

Guilt quickly washed over her beautiful features but he was quick to step forward and wrap his arms around her. "No darlin'. Don't feel bad. Believe me, I've got a great, understanding kid. If I conferred with her, she'd probably tell me to move in with you-" He stopped himself, suddenly awkward. "Um, it's just that she'll be staying with Zoë for the next week and I wanted to spend some time before she goes."

"I'm sorry, I should have thought. My mind's been mush these last few days."

"You have nothing to apologize for luv. In fact…" He tilted his head speculatively. "Why don't you head back to the house with me? Emily would love to hang out with you. You two could watch one of the chick flicks you both like so much and I'll do my best to point out all the ridiculous plot points. What do ya say?"

It was tempting. She really didn't want to be alone but at some point she was going to have to be. Gillian couldn't continue to lean on him so heavily. Cal was up to the task, he always was, but she needed to regain some of her own self-reliance. "I think I'll take a rain check just for tonight. The whole thing's been hard on Emily too and I think she could use some one on one time with her dad." She nodded as she spoke.

Cal's expression was slightly pained. She was right but at the same time, he didn't want to leave her like this. "Are you sure?" He wasn't but she might be.

"No, not really but I need to go back to some kind of normalcy. Do you know what I mean? I'm not going to continue to live with this specter over my shoulder. I'm a strong person and I can get beyond this."

"I know you are but I want to be there for you anyway."

"I appreciate that." She'd moved away but reached over to touch his face. "But you shouldn't have to be. I'm taking steps to sort this all out. I appreciate the support but I need to work at it on my own too."

He nodded, eyes still concerned. "Okay."

"I'm not pushing you away."

"I know."

"You'd better go if Emily's waiting for you."

"Yeah." Cal didn't move, his gaze slowly touching every part of her face.

With a like mind, they stepped forward into one another's arms for a tight embrace before moving back just enough to see the other's eyes. He was suddenly very conscious of all points of contact as his mind noted his hands on her waist, the soft fabric of her dress beneath his palms, the feel of her torso pressed firmly against his, the fingers of one hand clinging to his shoulder while the other absently played with the hair at the nape of his neck. With barely a moment to contemplate his actions, his mouth quickly and hungrily found hers as his passion overwhelmed him. _How I love this woman. How I want her now and forever. _

Gillian saw the shift but was unprepared for the sudden desperation or the passion. It took her no time to get up to speed however as she sunk into the kiss and returned it with equal fervor. She really didn't want him to leave. She wanted him to come inside and stay. She wanted to envelope him in a full body hug to be as close as two people could possibly get but she also knew that that would be selfish. But she would be damned if she wouldn't enjoy the delicious feeling that he was eliciting within her at this precise moment in time as his tongue and lips caressed, taunted and told her almost everything.

He broke away as they both gasped to fill neglected lungs before moving to her ear and down the side of her neck. "I love you so much Gillian."

Tightening her embrace, she could feel the vibration as his words found their way to softly murmur in her ear. She pressed her own lips against his hairline, gasping as he found a sensitive spot on her throat. "I love you Cal but we're…ahhh…starting to put on a show…oh God…for my…neighbors."

"Maybe they'll _learn_ somethin'." His words still teased against her flesh and she shivered despite the warm night. Regardless of the taunt, he straightened, kissed her lips softly again before leaning his forehead against hers. "Best be goin'."

She could feel his rushed breath warm against her face as she struggled to control her own respiration. "Okay. Be careful."

"Will do." He didn't move and kissed her again instead. "I'll talk to you a little later."

Nodding, she just stared at him, hands now holding onto the front of his shirt.

He finally stepped away and she was forced to let go, immediately feeling the void but reminding herself that she was being silly. She'd see him tomorrow. "Say hello to Emily for me."

"Course." He ran his fingers down her cheek. "Inside with ya."

Blinking hard, she absently fumbled for her keys before inserting the correct one into the lock and letting herself in. "Goodnight Cal."

"Goodnight luv."


	30. Chapter 30

**_Hope no one's bored. Probably going to be tying this one up pretty shortly. After that, well, guess we'll see. Thanks for reading._**

* * *

><p>"You doing okay dad?" Emily tilted her head, regarding him much as he did others.<p>

"Yeah, luv. Why?"

Her dark eyes searched his face, noting fatigue and maybe a little bit of worry. "You never shared what happened."

"Don't remember a whole lot."

"But you remember some."

Cal just looked at her.

"…_and_ you're not going to share." She concluded, disappointed but not surprised. "Sometimes it's good to get things off your chest. I _am_ a pretty good listener you know."

Cal grunted, slouching more into the couch.

"I wish you wouldn't always treat me like a little kid."

He gazed at her, eyes warm. "Darlin', you are growing up faster than I'm really comfortable with." A smirk pulled up the corner of his lip. "Doesn't mean I have to acknowledge it."

Huffing, she narrowed her eyes as his smirk morphed into a grin.

"You are so annoying!"

"I know it luv."

Emily gave another tiny little huff, but let it go for the moment. She leaned her head against his shoulder while they pretended to watch the news, just thankful that he was back and unharmed. She'd been terrified when he and Gillian went missing – it had been a very long couple of days. She felt him throw an arm around her, pull her close and kiss the top of her head. _Yeah. She was happy to have him back_. Snuggling closer, she listened to his steady breathing for a few minutes, wishing he felt he could confide in her. She was, after all, seventeen now and probably more mature in some ways than _he_ was but her dad had never been the most open of people. Admitting his feelings was something akin to torture for him.

"Dad?"

"Hmmm?"

"Is Gillian okay?" Emily sat up to look at his face, slightly taken aback at the open warmth of his expression.

Cal let out a little sigh. "Think she's gettin' there. I hope."

"I'm sure it'll take some time."

"Yeah."

Scrutinizing him again closely, she just had to ask. "Has something changed?"

He looked startled before pulling his brows down and narrowing his eyes. "What d'ya mean?"

"I think you know what I mean."

"She went through a very traumatic incident and I'm trying to be there for her."

"That's not an answer."

"Sure it is." The teasing grin melted away at her expression. His Emily wasn't a little kid any more. She was growing into a very intuitive young woman and denial of that fact wasn't about to change anything.

"You're not going to throw me a single bone are you?" Her brow flicked up in aggravation.

Cal stared at her for many long moments while she brazenly returned it. Unlike his employees, intimidation of him was something she'd never felt. Something shifted in his eyes as he regarded her and she unconsciously held her breath.

"Maybe…well…yeah…possibly…" His gaze moved away from her and he focused somewhere beyond the t.v. "She's…um…pretty vulnerable right now. I was bloody useless and she had to rise up in ways that she probably never thought that she could." His voice was low, barely more than a murmur. Even from Emily's position on the couch next to him, she had to strain to hear. It was almost as if he were just speaking to himself. "She's a strong woman but this was…above and beyond anything she's ever had to deal with. Saved _my_ life, as well as her own. Cost is pretty high though. It's been…really rough…on her."

Leaning into him again, Emily wrapped an arm around his midsection, frowning slightly as tears stung the back of her eyes.

"Don't remember much but I do remember how scared she was and I…couldn't do a damned thing…even when that bastard…was…" He stopped as blurry images twisted with cruel taunts and sadistic laughter.

Emily tightened her grip on her father, overwhelmed that he'd actually talked to her about what happened, even if it was heavily abbreviated. A huge part of her didn't even want to know the rest. Just reading between the lines, she knew that Finn Bainbridge had been evil. There was no doubt in her mind. Gillian had done the right thing but if _she'd_ been in her shoes, would she have been strong enough to make that kind of decision? She honestly wasn't sure.

"It's easier to heal when you have support from one another."

"Doesn't need me suffocating her."

"Didn't get the impression that she felt that way the other night."

Neither did he but being too close…with his, okay, _their_, questionable control…was dangerous. They could barely keep their hands off one another. That couldn't be healthy at this point. Could it?

"I think she's a bit too emotional right now to make any sound decisions."

"What has she said?"

_She loves me_. Of that he had no doubt but what if the admission was only because of her heightened emotional state? What if after all is said and done, she pulls back and builds up that bloody line again? It seemed possible. Of course _anything_ was possible. She _could _show up here wearing gift wrap and a smile. Not too probable though. Hell, why did he always doubt everything? It was his nature, that's why. _Shit_.

When he didn't answer, she gave him a not so subtle push. "Maybe you should call her. Just to check in, you know."

"It's only been a few hours since I saw her luv."

"And how does that have any bearing whatsoever?"

"You're a lot like your old man, you know that?"

"Yeah. It's a curse." She gave him a closed mouth smile.

_**(BREAK)**_

Gillian decided to take a cold shower after he left. God, what was it now? Feelings were out in the open so all bets were off? She couldn't even think about him now without that warm tingle flushing through her loins. It was crazy. She'd always been attracted but this…

Stepping out, she wrapped herself in a huge bath sheet, towel dried her hair before changing into some jammy capris and a pale pink Henley. She wasn't really looking forward to sleep. In fact it scared the hell out of her and she had tentative thoughts to attempt a dreamless state with a little bit of wine. Not the healthiest choice but it was a plan for the time being, at least until she was further into therapy. Dr. Beck was wonderful. She'd loved having her as a professor but she was even better as a counselor. But of course things took time. Things didn't come to fruition overnight. Thus, the wine.

Maybe she should call him.

No, she needed to be strong or at least a little less co-dependant and that's exactly what she was being.

Still…it would be nice to hear his voice. That lovely lilt that became downright sexy when he lowered it into a lusty growl…

_Gillian…seriously? What the hell?_

Still inwardly debating, she headed into kitchen, chose a nice Shiraz off her little counter wine rack and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. Wine and a movie. Yeah, that would be good.

The comfy sofa beckoned and she curled up, glass now in hand, filled half way as she attempted to focus on the film. She'd chosen something atypical figuring a romantic comedy was the _last_ thing she needed to be watching tonight. It would be something Cal would appreciate. There was something about the classics that easily took her away. Her imagination would go into overdrive as she glimpsed a fragment of the world that existed before her, considered what it was like to live back then. She'd always loved Gregory Peck and it was easy to get swept away. It was something she desperately needed. Dr. Beck would most certainly approve. So would Cal.

Boo Radley had just made his appearance when the phone rang. Gillian startled, automatically hit pause and reached to grab it off the coffee table. Her heart immediately started to gallop when she realized who it was.

"Hi Cal."

"Hey darlin'. Just wanted to…see how everythin' was. Say goodnight and all."

"I was just finishing up a movie and heading to bed shortly."

"Guess my timin' isn't too bad. I…" he paused, feeling a little awkward. "Well I…guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Mmhm."

He was quiet for several moments before pushing forward. "You'll call me if you need me, yeah?"

Once again, tears threatened and she quickly rubbed at her eyes. "I will. Thank you."

"Anytime…guess I'll let you get back to your movie then."

"Okay." Her voice was soft. She wanted him to come over but she was trying very hard to regain her independence. "Love you Cal."

Another pause, followed by a low breath. "Love you too Gill."


	31. Chapter 31

_**Wondering if I lost some people. Is everyone still interested in this story? Any suggestions for improvement?  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><em>She kept her eyes squeezed shut even as Finn cruelly shook her by the back of her skull. <em>

"_LOOK!" His demanding scream brought a shower of foam and spittle._

"_No, no, no…" Gillian's chant was a combination of her refusal to give in to his demand and a reaction to the darkness and horror of the situation._

_As his fingers slowly tightened, her morbid curiosity began to get the better of her but for the moment remained steadfast despite her fear of him. She could feel her body shaking violently and nausea rising._

_Finn kneeled down next to her, hand unmoving at the back of her neck but his hot, fetid breath against he side of her face. "Okay Gillian. You won't look so I'll describe him for you."_

_Shaking her head, hot tears ran out from under closed lids._

"_Three wounds about an inch and a half long each. First one went through his stomach. Bled like a stuck pig. Quite messy. Explains the big puddle. Second one took out a lung. Can't imagine the pain and then the sudden struggle to breath. Poor guy."_

"_Shut up!" It was a high-pitched whine._

"_Last one directly in the heart. Pulmonary artery I would guess. Lots of blood from that one too, well, at least until the last beat. No beating, no gushing. More of an ooze at that point really."_

"_Please…"_

"_Now Gillian. You're just being rude. I didn't even get to describe the expression on his face. Oh wait, that's your department isn't it? You really should see. No? Well, I have to say that I don't think he saw it coming. Well, not from you at least."_

_She cracked her eyes open. She hadn't meant to. It happened before she could stop herself. The wail began low in her chest. A steady vibration that moved upward before escaping her throat in a scream that seared her from the inside out._

_Finn was right._

_Cal hadn't been expecting her betrayal. His death mask held shock and pain. His eyes were partially open, staring into forever in disbelief and accusation…_

The scream carried her into awareness as she lay in the dark, breath raging, heart hammering, and pajamas sticking to her sweat coated body. And alone. As she remained still and attempted to calm her nerves, she was very aware that he wasn't in the other room any longer. He was home with his daughter where he was supposed to be. _And he was fine_. She didn't need to be afraid for him. Hell, whom was she kidding? She was always afraid for him. Finn's death wouldn't change that. The whole situation did probably exacerbate it though.

Shifting slightly she caught a glimpse of the bedside clock. A little past five glowed back at her. With a deep, cleansing breath, she kicked the sheet and blanket off. That was it. No way she was going back to sleep now. May as well get up and start her day. Early to work and then a call to Dr. Beck shortly thereafter.

_**(BREAK)**_

Cal disconnected with his thumb, walking a little slower as he headed toward the stairwell of the Lightman Group. Emotions were swirling around inside of him, tying together to form a hard knot in his belly.

Some information was better left unknown.

Bainbridge Senior was on suicide watch. Cal wouldn't have guessed that one if asked but then again, there hadn't been a lot of contact even before the whole ordeal began. And since…well just the phone call from several days back. Not like he could catch facial cues from a phone call and as everyone knew, voice analysis wasn't his thing. He stopped for a moment, staring off to the side, noting Gillian's car. She'd probably been at the office for a couple of hours already. That was the way she was. A tiny smile pulled at his mouth at the thought of her before it slipped away. Troubled, he wondered if he had had something to do with the old man's fragile state. He couldn't help but think so, but at the same time, he didn't regret what he'd said. Bainbridge had gone from an enabler to an accessory all in the name of protecting his son. That had been _his_ choice. Cal's reaction wasn't completely out there.

Tightening his jaw, he pushed forward and into the stairwell, taking two steps at a time. How would he feel if the man was successful? How _should_ he feel? Really, he should feel nothing. The old man didn't warrant it. Maybe he was just getting soft in his old age.

Heidi pushed several messages toward him with a broad smile and a 'good morning' as he passed by reception. Nodding in acknowledgement he kept moving. He meant to go to his office but his legs took the detour to Gillian's, pausing outside for a moment before giving a light knock and stepping inside. He didn't wait for an invitation. He rarely did.

"Mornin' darlin'." Cal gave her a sideways smile as his eyes settled on her face. It slipped away as concern once again pulled at him. "Bad night?" His tone had gone gentle. _He should have never left her_. Inwardly he cursed himself.

Her smile was bright for him, but her eyes were rimmed with fatigue. "A little."

Shutting the door quietly behind him, he stopped only to flip the lock before striding toward her and casually leaning against her desk to look down at her. One hand reached out as his fingers lightly trailed down the side of her face. "The usual?"

Closing her eyes briefly at his touch, they popped back open. "Yes? No?" She shook her head, as if clearing cobwebs. "It just seems to be evolving. I know that it's normal but I really didn't think it could get worse." She gave a shrug. "But somehow it managed."

"Did you call Dr. Beck?"

Gillian nodded, her lips pushing together. "She had an emergency and hasn't been able to get back to me just yet."

Sliding off the desk, he fell into a crouch and took her hand. "You could try running it past me. If you want that is." His eyes were so full of tenderness she almost started to choke up but managed not to. But just barely. Her gaze flitted over him. His face was slightly worn, attractive, loved. There was something else though, something that slipped past before he caught his mistake. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Is there something you're not telling me? I mean, something that maybe you should?" Gillian felt compelled to make the distinction. There was, no doubt, probably lots he wasn't telling her. Of course with the admission of his past tragedy, she figured the list might be marginally shorter. Maybe.

"Does this mean we both need to show our cards?" It was meant to be light but somehow fell a little flat. Cal cleared his throat.

"Maybe."

"You show me yours and I'll show you mine kind of thing?" He tried again, eyes lighting with a tiny bit of mischief.

Her mouth sagged slightly. This time she managed a smile. "Something like that."

Cal straightened and held a hand out to pull her up easily into his arms. He wrapped himself around her as she clung to him fiercely, her lips finding gentle purchase against his cheek. Smiling, he pressed a soft kiss against her hairline before moving away and leading her toward her little leather sofa on the other side of the desk.

"Okay. You first." He waggled an eyebrow as they both dropped into the cushions, his thigh pressed against hers.

"Why do I have to go first?" She frowned at him.

"Cause you're the one in therapy."

"Why should that matter?"

"Cause it's part of the healing process. If you spill it maybe the nightmares will stop. You know, lose their power and such." He gave a wave of his hand to perpetuate the bullshit. In truth he was afraid how she'd react to the whole Bainbridge thing and he wanted to delay telling her it if possible. Maybe if given a few extra minutes he could figure out how to get out of saying anything at all.

Giving out a tiny sigh, she leaned her head against his chest but didn't initially say anything. He looped one arm around her, his hand rubbing her upper arm as he patiently waited.

"The dreams always warp things." She brought a hand up and hooked it around his opposite shoulder to hold on a little tighter. "And they makes me feel physically ill whenever I have them."

"I'm sure that's not uncommon, luv." His fingers moved from her arm to gently sift through her hair, noting the silky feeling against his skin.

"Not completely. I mean, it's not _normal_ but it's not unheard of either."

"Are they memories from the cabin that your mind is twisting around? Or somethin' else?" His breath was warm against the crown of her head.

"Something else." Gillian closed her eyes, breathing his comforting scent in for a moment. "They're…um…they're showing me a couple of my worst fears."

"You sound pretty definite. Most dreams are pretty ambiguous."

"These aren't."

He continued to brush through her hair with his fingers. "What fears Gill?"

Biting her lip, she felt her eyes begin to burn with tears again. Swallowing heavily, she pushed against the lids with the heel of her hand. "Damnit. I'm so tired of crying."  
>"S'okay."<p>

"No. Not really."

Cal didn't comment, once again just waiting. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head.

"There's a huge part of me that apparently believes I'm just like Finn."

"Well, that's bollocks."

"Tell my subconscious that."

That would take time. He wasn't really equipped to help her with that one, other than constant reassurance and being there. "Could always whisper it into your ear when you're sleepin'. Direct line that way."

"We'll have to have another sleepover for you to do that." She flushed even as the words left her mouth.

He was completely unfazed. "Well that can be easily arranged." He kissed her hair again. "What's the other fear comin' to life in your dream?"

Her normally smooth brow crinkled as she contemplated the answer. Finally she pushed upward so she could meet his eyes as her own began to fill once again. "Fear of losing you, Cal."


	32. Chapter 32

_**Thanks much! Glad everyone has been staying with me on this! Lots of emotions and relationship stuff now coming your way…**_

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><p>Cal felt a pang inside but didn't say anything, sensing she wasn't done.<p>

"I think the meaning is pretty clear." She sniffled and pushed a little closer. "Only thing is that the rest of it might imply that…um…that I'm afraid that I might push you away. But God, the nightmare is so awful. If that's what my subconscious is getting at, I wish it would find a kinder way."

"You're not gonna lose me." Cal pressed another kiss against her to accentuate the point, wishing there was more he could do to reassure her. He wasn't sure if she really had any idea how much she meant to him, how much and how long he'd wanted _this_. If he were a more vocal type, he'd shout it out for everyone to hear or pull a Julie Andrews on top on a mountain somewhere. Well. Maybe not _that_ far but he might consider it with the proper amount of alcohol. "Especially now that I have a huge reason to keep myself from acting like a bleeding idiot."

Gillian digested that for a moment. "You mean you would take all those chances because…"

"I didn't have you." He meant it to sound nonchalant but it came out a little thick instead. "And I desperately wanted you. Didn't think it was possible though."

She moved to peer up at him and found that he wasn't looking at her. Instead his gaze was locked somewhere out the window but still not seeing where his eyes rested. "Why would you think that?"

They moved back to her, slightly surprised. "Obvious isn't it?"

"Not to me." She watched as he shifted uncomfortably. "And if you say that you're not good enough for me, I think I'm going to hit you right here and now."

Cal didn't offer anything, just stared at her.

"Well?"

"You just threatened to hurt me."

He was always able to get her mind off everything even if it meant slipping into self-deprecation mode. One of the many things she loved about him. Without another thought she pushed up and kissed him, which he instantly returned. She pulled away a moment later, watching as the tip of his tongue flicked out to grab her flavor from his lips. He was also an excellent kisser. Yet another thing on her list of reasons for loving him. There were a lot on the opposite list too but the positive outweighed the negative. "Don't I have a say as whether or not you're good enough for me?"

Tilting his head, he regarded her softly, eyes slightly sad. "You've got such a good heart Gillian and I worry that you might see me in a more positive light than you should."

"I think that after all these years I can distinguish between reality and looking at you through rose tinted glass. I know you're not perfect. You can be cruel and thoughtless at times…"

"I'm sorry…"

"Shhh! I'm not done." She was sitting upright, holding his eyes. "But I know the flipside too. I know the qualities that helped me fall in love with you and they far outweigh what makes you act like a douchebag."

_Helped me fall in love with you_. _Holy crap. This was real._ A moment later the other thing she said sunk in. "Did you just call me a douchebag?"

"Um, yeah. Sometimes you _are_."

"Fair enough. Just checkin'."

"Most importantly, you have to _trust_ me to know my own mind."

"I _do_ trust you."

"But not when it comes to my feelings toward you."

He was quiet for a moment, face crinkling slightly. "I wanna try."

Gillian let out a breath slowly. As she stared at him, her eyes began to cloud in dream-induced horror.

"Do you want to know what happens in the nightmare?" Her voice rose ever so slightly, shaking as she jumped the track, her brows arching upward.

Cal wasn't completely sure if he _did_ want to know now but nodded slowly, finding the sudden shift slightly unnerving. "If you wanna tell me."

"In the dream it's not Finn that I killed." Her blue eyes were intense but she'd started to tremble. "It was _you_." The tears now overflowed as her trembling increased. "And Finn was there the _whole_ time, making me _look_, making me _acknowledge _what I'd done. _I killed you in the dream_."

Her eyes dropped as her face began to crumble. "_There was so much blood_."

He didn't know what to say. He could only agree that her initial thoughts about the meaning were probably correct but the words didn't come. Instead he chose not to bother with them at all, instead wrapping his arms around her and pulling her snuggly against him. He held her as the tears of anger and sorrow erupted from her, her cries sudden, loud and anguished as everything poured out. He held her as her hands pulled at his shirt and accidentally popped a button off, his embrace just tightening. This was the outpouring of emotion she'd needed, earlier ones trivial by comparison. His arms stayed around her even as she thrashed and tried to pull away. No way he was letting her go. Not now. Not ever.

_**(BREAK)**_

He held her steadily until she was quiet and even after. The screams had slowly ebbed to sobs and then just raspy breaths. Several times he had to send concerned employees away after hearing tentative knocks at the door.

Now she'd just collapsed against him, emotionally and physically exhausted, seemingly pulling strength from the solidity of him. Cal didn't make a sound, just kept his arms around her, not caring that his shirt was awash in tears and snot. He'd determined that he was washable a long time ago when Emily had first thrown up on him as a baby.

"Sorry." Her voice was a croak.

"Don't be."

They were quiet again and he could feel her breath against his collarbone. He kissed the top of her head again, his heart breaking for her, but confident in her ability to come back from this.

Her phone suddenly went off, startling them both. "Think that might be your doc?" It was a low murmur.

"Maybe." With obvious reluctance, she pushed herself up and walked to her desk on shaky legs. He immediately stood, keeping a wary eye on her.

After Gillian's greeting, it became apparent that it was, in fact, Dr. Beck getting back to her. Cal let out a sigh of relief but he couldn't help but think the outburst had been cleansing for her. At least it was a solid start.

She disconnected just moments later and looked up at him, a tiny bit of embarrassment flickering through her.

"None of that luv."

"I shouldn't have…lost it like that."

"I think it was a good thing." He stepped close again but didn't touch her.

Her eyes fell to his shirt, frowning and scrunching up her face in disgust. She reached a hand out. "Look what I did."

"No worries. You know I'm not vain." Cal smiled warmly and she couldn't help but return it. He was right. It probably had been a good thing. She felt completely drained but a tiny part seemed cleansed.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome darlin'. Wish I could do more."

She ran a gentle hand down the center of his chest, staring at the missing button. "The shirt's totally trashed."

"Didn't care all that much for it anyway." He took a half step forward, placing both hands against her cheeks. He smiled again. "I'll send you the bill." Leaning forward he softly kissed her lips. "Guess you have an appointment now?"

"She's squeezing me in."

"That's good. Need a ride?"

"Um, no, that's alright." He'd done enough and she was trying to keep from becoming too co-dependant.

Cal nodded, not contesting. "Okay luv. Whatever you need."

This time _she_ leaned forward and kissed him. It was a trifle more insistent and he felt immediately warmth flooding through him before she pulled back. "Thank you again."

"Feel like coming by for dinner later?" The pads of his fingers trailed down her cheekbone as he tilted his head, watching closely.

"I'd…like that."

"6:30 ish?"

"That would be lovely."

His smile was warm as he brushed her lips with his once more.

_**(BREAK)**_

Cal had managed to avoid telling her about Bainbridge earlier but was certain that he wouldn't luck out again. She'd be over shortly and he was fairly certain she'd be more in control of her emotions.

He finished setting the table, opened a bottle of wine to allow it to breath and stepped back into the kitchen to check on the main course. Nothing too extravagant since he didn't have a whole lot of time to prepare but hopefully it should be good.

The doorbell rang several moments later as he steeled himself for her inevitable questions. Maybe she wouldn't remember. _Right_.

Pulling the door open, his eyes widened as breath eluded him. Gillian had changed clothes and she looked _really_ good in the body hugging little black dress.

She smiled, coloring slightly under his startled gaze and open-mouthed gape. "Can I come in?"

"Uh…sure luv. Sorry…I…" He moved to the side to allow her entrance, still staring, promptly forgetting the rest of what he'd started to say. "You look beautiful Gill." At least _that _came out right.

"Thank you. Was tired of dressing so grungy the last few days."

"You could never be grungy." A wicked smile lit his features as he recovered. "But I have to say that I _do_ like _this_ better."

She beamed, enjoying this bit of power she held over him. "Wow. It smells good in here!" Stepping inside, her eyes quickly flitted around, automatically relaxing. His home always had a calming effect on her. All those warm tones, books and art worked wonders. Of course currently, _he_ helped a lot too.

"Homemade lasagna. Was gonna bake somethin' with calories out the wazoo but didn't have time. Had to make a bakery run instead."

"You're spoiling me, you know that?"

Closing the door behind her, he gave a smirk. "Don't get too used to it. You know, spare the rod and all that."

"You've never believed that." She moved further into the living room and dropped her purse on the coffee table.

"No one has to know it though." Cal stepped close as she turned to face him. They stood barely two feet apart. "You doin' okay luv?" His tone went soft, his eyes moving from teasing back to concerned.

"Um…yeah…I'm actually doing okay right now."

"Good session?"

"It was but I also wanted to thank you again. All the blubbering in my office seems to have helped. At least I think so." She made a half step closer and could now smell his crisp aftershave. She had a quick image of burying her face against his neck to breath him in even more. "Not sure what I'm going to tell our staff tomorrow. Seeing…or rather…_hearing_ one of the bosses become unglued can't be good for morale."

"That's a huge non-issue luv. They're perfectly aware of all the shit you went through."

"You went through it too, even though you act like you didn't. And don't give me the crap about not remembering."

"But I don't…at least I don't remember _most _of it. What I do remember is beyond unpleasant. Feel better?"

"A little. At least I wasn't _completely_ alone."

His lips formed a single line as guilt nipped at him once again.

"No Cal. Don't go there." Gillian reached out and touched his chest. "Once again it wasn't your fault."

"Not completely at least." It was progress for him to admit even that much. It was just a matter of time before she pinned him down about the other issue bothering him.

"Cal?"

"Yeah luv?"

"Are you going to share?"

"What's that?" He felt a slight clenching inside. _Would that tiny bit of information push her back again? Or would she take it, analyze it and let it go? Please let it be the latter. _

"Earlier. Before I went to pieces, you were supposed to share something that's been nagging at you the last couple of days. I think it's definitely your turn now."

Cal regarded her quietly. "Guess that's true."

"You were hoping I'd forget."

"Kinda, yeah."

The buzzing of the oven timer had him taking a step back. "After dinner okay?"

"Promise?" Gillian seemed a little skeptical and he couldn't blame her.

"Yeah darlin'. I promise."


	33. Chapter 33

**_Okay. I'm trying this again. Site's been giving me a royal pain regarding this chapter. I apologize for the irritating game of 'now ya see it, now ya don't, now ya see it.' Arrgghh. ANYWAY, hopefully this will FINALLY work. Thanks for your patience and hope you enjoy._**

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><p>Gillian helped clear the table but he waved her away when she began to rinse dishes.<p>

"I'll do it later luv." He'd resolved himself to being honest with her but a part of him worried that the more he delayed it, the more likely he'd be to wriggle out of his promise. He grabbed what was left of the wine, his glass and gave a tiny head nod to indicate that she should go first. Cal was trying hard to be a gentleman, but being who he was, he couldn't keep his eyes from dropping to her backside once or twice.

She threw a glance at him over her shoulder and he just raised his brows innocently, despite the little smile and knowing look she wore.

Smoothing her dress over her hips, she kicked out of her heels and curled up in the corner of his leather sofa. Taking a sip from her glass, she watched him expectantly, not saying a word.

Cal lowered himself next to her, close enough to feel her warmth but not too much as to crowd her. "You're still gonna make me do this, yeah?"

"Of course. Fair is fair."

He grunted. "That's what I thought." Taking a sip from his own glass, he placed it on the coffee table before turning to face her. "I received a call a couple of days ago." The words were slightly rushed.

Gillian's face had grown still.

"The old man called me."

Her expression shifted from confusion to annoyance to anger. "Why the _hell_ would _he_ contact you?"

Nowhere in her face did he see any fear, or any indication that the news would affect her adversely. Cal gave a silent sigh of relief. "I've been askin' myself that a lot. Nearest I can figure…is that he's lookin' for some kind of closure or… forgiveness maybe."

Mouth opening slightly, her lip curled in derision. It wasn't an expression he was used to seeing on her. "Seriously. Forgiveness. After what he allowed to almost happen? That's rich."

"I know luv."

"What else did he say?" Anger still laced through her features.

"Eh." Cal gave a tiny shrug. "He tried to connect through the whole 'we're both fathers' kind of angle. Made me kind of ill but some part of me…"  
>"You feel bad for him." There was no question lurking in there anywhere.<p>

"Just made me wonder what I would have done if I had had a kid born bad instead of the great one I've got."

The anger seeped away, slowly being replaced by a calm fortitude. "I can tell you what you wouldn't have done. You wouldn't have thrown money at the problem and cleaned up after it, sacrificing yourself and everyone else in the process."

"True. But it would have ripped me apart inside."

Gillian wasn't sure what to say to that. It was true. What was pissing her off currently was the appalling way Bainbridge was attempting to manipulate Cal. Ever the damned puppet master. It was a below the belt hit to bring Emily into the equation. Selfish son of a bitch. Cal was at his most vulnerable when it came to his daughter and Bainbridge knew it.

"Is there something else?" What was odd was that Cal seemed to believe that he was protecting _her_. She personally didn't give a rat's ass about the old man.

"Just a bit." He felt the tables turning again and wasn't sure how it happened exactly. Had he just been projecting? Had he been overestimating Gillian's response just to hide from his own tangle of emotions? _Shit_. What _was_ this? _A fucking carnival ride?_

"Cal?" Her voice had gone gentle as she placed a hand on his arm.

"Um…a contact called me from county to let me know the old guy's on suicide watch." Cal felt unsure as to where he now stood and he really hated it.

Fury raged within her. He'd hit Cal where it hurt before drawing back and striking out again. Protective instincts flared and she had the strong urge to go down to the jail and confront Bainbridge. She wasn't much of a gambler but she'd bet almost anything that the man wouldn't take his own life.

Realization slowly dawned within him as he read into Gillian's reaction. The old man hadn't been looking for closure. He'd been looking for a bit of revenge. Cal looked up, meeting Gillian's eyes. "I got played." From a gut wrenching emotional perspective.

"Not for long."

He got to his feet, needing to move, his anger quiet and simmering.

"He took advantage Cal. You're still reeling from this as much as I am and he knew it. Any other time you would have seen it from a mile away."

"And idiot me actually felt a trifle sorry for him."

Standing, Gillian approached and caught his arm. He did a half turn to face her. "You have a lot of compassion Cal, especially when it comes to kids and depression. Bainbridge did his homework. He knew this about you and he used it."

He let out a gush of air feeling like a complete moron. "Doesn't stop the sting though."

Moving a tiny bit closer, she offered a conciliatory smile. "Even happens to the best."

"Best huh?" He shook his head. "And here I was worried about how this might effect _you_."

"The thought of him makes me angry but it doesn't do much more than that. Now Finn, on the other hand…" She stopped, chewing on the inside of her cheek as her brow furrowed. "Guess I don't need to go into that again. Slowly coming to terms with it."

"We're quite the team, yeah?"

Her smile flickered and came back. "Without a doubt."

They both inwardly acknowledged the ebb and flow of strength between the two of them. Had it _always_ been this strong? Or had this experience honed it even more? It seemed oddly symbiotic.

Cal took a step and was now within her personal space. One hand dropped to her waist while the other reached up and brushed lightly down her cheek. "I never thanked you."

She blinked, her breath hitching at the light contact. "Um…for what?"

"Saving my life." His eyes were soft and earnest.

That fact had never even occurred to her. She did everything out of instinct. Trying to protect him was as natural as breathing. "I…couldn't let him…" Stopping, she chose not to continue. She was done reliving it.

"I know." Cal's voice was a whisper. He was _so_ close. "I just needed to say it." His hand stayed on her cheek. "It's amazin'."

"What is?" Gill's own voice was barely more than a breath.

"How much I need you."

"You do huh?"

Cal smiled at the small innuendo in her voice. "And I don't mean in just a sexual way…although that would always be nice."

Normally she would have given him a light cuff for that but things had now changed. She needed him too. And not just in a sexual way either (although that would be way beyond nice).

The smell of his aftershave washed over her as his lips softly pressed to hers before retreating. She felt a pang of disappointment that quickly washed away as his accent lovingly wrapped around the words she never got tired of hearing. "I love you Gillian."

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><p><strong><em>Now,<em>** **_where do we go from here? Seems like it might be a good ending point unless…? What would y'all like? ;-)_**


	34. Chapter 34

**_Couldn't quite leave it at the last chapter, despite the fact that the story has run its course. It's always hard to let go, even though this one had already gone a lot longer than I'd ever anticipated it would. Anyway, a short epilogue…_**

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><p>She awoke comfortable and relaxed. The window was cracked open allowing a breath of morning air to gently ruffle the drapes and bring in the faint scent of Crepe Myrtle and freshly mown grass. Gillian lay quietly, inhaling the pleasant fragrance but also listening to the soft breathing next to her.<p>

The nightmares had finally faded. They'd started to lose their power not long after the emotional breakdown in her office. It had cleansed her mentally and physically, allowing her to isolate, analyze and put it all forever in the past. Of course Dr. Beck had been an excellent guide in helping her achieve that goal. And then there was Cal who not only unfailingly stood beside her but allowed her to help him too. They were healing together.

Their ordeal had occurred four months ago and in that time so much had changed. There were no more games and no more secrets. He'd worked so hard to change his impulsive behaviors and aside from the occasional digression, he'd done pretty well. He couldn't stop himself completely, after all he was who he was, but he'd made great strides to temper those impulses. And he'd done it all for her. The gravity of that commitment wasn't something she took lightly, in fact, when she took time to really contemplate it, it overwhelmed her, often bringing tears to her eyes. Change was amazingly difficult for most people but for someone like Cal it was close to impossible. But he was attempting the impossible and rising to the task. Because of this and a million other reasons, when he, almost shyly, asked if she'd move in with him, she said yes. She hadn't even taken any time to think about it. Hadn't needed to.

"You're awake early." Cal's voice was rough with sleep.

Smiling, her gaze settled on him, taking in the bleary eyes and the hair sticking up at every odd angle. He was absolutely adorable and she never tired of waking up near him.

Gillian gave a tiny shrug. "Just reflecting."

Turning on his side, he reached over and gently pulled her closer to him, before planting a soft kiss against her shoulder. "Reflecting, huh?"

"Uh huh."

He tilted his head to look down into her face. Contentment. Warmth. "In a good way I gather?" His lips dropped again as he pressed them to her neck, loving the feel of her silky skin.

Her arms found their way around him, palms against his smooth, lean muscles before using her nails to scratch lightly, feeling the slight shudder go through his body. "I'd say that that's a safe bet."

Smiling, he moved upward again to look into her eyes. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Instead he leaned forward and gently kissed her, pleased when she immediately responded. They fit together perfectly.

There was a good two hours before they needed to be at work. Of course if they were late, that was always okay too. It was even expected now.


End file.
